


The Prince and The Pot Smoker

by ConnorProject2K17



Series: Dear Evan Hansen [3]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Fairytale AU!, M/M, Might be sad though, So much WORSE, and you'll never guess who, connors gets worse, evan is a prince, evans life gets better, it was supposd to be a connor-cinderella fanfic but I made his home life too nice, less-evil, maybe nice is the wrong word, someone else commits suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 20:13:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 21,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12942909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConnorProject2K17/pseuds/ConnorProject2K17
Summary: Queen Heidi is throwing a ball to find a fiancé for her son, since she found out what really happened to his arm last summer.Jared was the court-jester until he found out his jokes were only making Evan feel worse. Now he's trying hard to make up for it.And Connor?Connor's life has been completely taken over by Larr-his dad. He's forced to wear pastel, compete in sports and cut his hair.Zoe is treating him like he's not even there.Larry finally has the son he wants, and is determined to not let him go.All Connor wants is to be freed, but how can he after his ------ --------- -------.I refuse to give away the spoiler (but i'm sure you figured it out by now) so I'm using dashes to cover it up.





	1. Forced into The Sun...

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic for this fandom (try saying that three times fast), but don't be gentle. If you have a problem with this please tell me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get it? Because The Sun is a tabloid magazine? Ha.

Connor sneered as he heard his door slam behind him.

He practically took a running leap into his bed, sighing in relief as his aching feet lightly rubbed against the coolness of his blanket.

Connor had been on his feet all day; going to the music store to pick up Zoe’s new guitar strings, going to The Office to drop off some of Larry’s papers, going to the local Starbucks to get Larry a coffee. He’d gotten some weird looks when he burst into the café, his pastel shirt drenched with sweat as he doubled over in pain. He hadn’t exercised before --- ------ ----, and now with all the football and track and fucking _baseball_ he’d been forced into joining, his body wasn’t ready for being forced into becoming fit.

\--- ------ would never have made him do all of this. She would have told Lar- _Dad_ that Connor was perfectly healthy and didn’t need sports to express himself. Plus she’d actually listened to him when he’d told her about the other players, and the bullying he’d had to put up with. Now Connor came home with black eyes and burst lips, and not get much more than a second glance.

La-Dad had told him he shouldn’t stand up for himself, because they both knew Connor would end up throwing a punch, and his dad would rather deal with his son opening the first-aid kit every other day than deal with complaints from the school.

Connor rolled over onto his stomach, burying his face into his pillow. He was so tired, but his brain just wouldn’t turn off.

And Zoe. _Zoe_.

 She didn’t talk to him. Admittedly she didn’t talk to him before ----- ------ ----, but now it was worse. She looked right threw him instead of adverting her eyes. She ignored everything he said, even if he was just asking her to pass the milk. Connor would never say he missed their fights from before, but he just wished they could fix things. Go back to how it was before he became a mental case.

But he knew it was too late.  Too many nights of pounding on her door, screaming that he was going to kill her for no reason wasn’t something that could be forgotten with an apology. He had ruined his sister’s childhood, her _life_ , and there was no way to go back and fix it.

He felt his stomach twist at the thought, and ran a hand threw his short hair. He wasn’t quite used to the new length.

Connor wouldn’t even know how to apologise. He hadn’t had any real human interaction other than answering questions in class, and the occasional ‘School’s fine, we’re fine, our family is normal’ with Dad’s co-workers.

On the rare occasion that Connor did catch Zoe’s eye, she would flinch like she’d been struck.

It broke his heart. His cold, black, shrivelled little heart.

Connor didn’t bother getting undressed before he fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

Evan felt like crying. He watched helplessly from his seat as luscious banners were hung from the ceiling and carpets were rolled across the floor. His mother was busy peppering random workers with questions just to make absolutely sure that everything would go right. Not that any of them would complain, Queen Heidi’s enthusiasm was infectious, but it made everything take twice as long as it should have. Evan wouldn’t admit it, but he was kind of glad. He wanted this to drag on forever, to take so long that his mum would just call the whole thing off, and then Evan wouldn’t have to suffer through the horror of-

“Hey, General Sherman? It’s your turn.”

Evan tore his eyes away from his mother’s endless questioning to see Jared watching him expectantly. He gave the other boy a small smile before turning his attention back to the large chess board in front of him, eyeing Jared’s last move.

A ‘General Sherman’ was one of the rarest trees in the world, Evan had told him that last night, and it made him feel a bit pleased that Jared had remembered.

Okay, not just a bit.

Evan hesitantly moved his knight a space, and Jared leant back in his seat. Neither of them said anything, Jared still staring at the board, but Evan guessed that neither of them were thinking about the game.

“Are you… okay with this?”

Evan looked up from his hunched sitting position, twisting his hands together nervously. Jared frowned when he saw.

“Stop that.”

“Sorry.” Evan moved up a little bit, and sat on his hands.

“S’okay.”

More silence. Jared moved a piece.

“It’s just… with the party and everything? I know you’re… on edge.” He said awkwardly, shuffling in his seat. Evan nodded. He knew it was hard for Jared to express any emotion other than ‘obnoxious asshole’, but he was trying. For Evan.

The blond boy scratched at his arm without thinking, and Jared’s eyes immediately followed him. Evan moved his hand away and sat on it again.

The tree had really changed things for them. Not that Evan was really complaining, he liked spending time with his friend (friend, not family friend, an actual caring friend) without spending hours playing violent video games that completely shot Evan’s nerves, or drinking wine until three in the morning.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Evan sighed again and Jared fiddled with his glasses. Okay, maybe Evan was complaining a little bit. The wine and games weren’t ideal, but at least they kept his mind off of the horrible truth that had been last summer. Almost an entire year had passed since then and Jared still treated his friend like glass, not letting him go to school alone and practically dragging him away from any chances of forced socialising.

That had been a really embarrassing moment at Starbucks, when Evan had to physically fight Jared and get him to let go of his arm and go back inside, because Evan hadn’t had time to pay before he was hauled away by the shorter boy.

“I-it’s not okay,” he confessed. “I don’t want this. A-at all. A-and I feel selfish because o-of it.”

The best way to get Jared to stop worrying was to tell him what was wrong. Sometimes that backfired horribly, because Evan would underestimate how messed up his confessions were and leave Jared feeling even more worried than before.

“Why?” Jared asked, leaning forward a bit. He stared intensely at the board, not looking his friend in the eye.

“B-because… you know why. The-there’ll be so many p-people. There’ll be loud music and laughing and I’ll be d-dragged into conversations I don’t want to be a part of, and I have to talk, to _f-flirt_ , with so ma-many people, and you know I can’t d-do that, so-”

“Ev. Ev! Breath, buddy.” Jared made a soothing gesture with his hands, and Evan swallowed thickly, trying to steady his breathing. He felt his palms stick against the underside of his chair with sweat and tried not to cringe.

“T-thanks Jared.” He said, feeling his face heat up. He was getting better but, his anxiety still humiliated him. But, yeah, he was getting better and that’s what he should be focusing on.

“No prob.” Jared shrugged, and watched as Evan moved a pawn, stealing his queen. His jaw dropped.

“How did you-” he asked, and looked up to see Evan smiling sheepishly.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

 

* * *

 

 

Connor woke up with his face half mushed into his pillow, and blearily blinked at the light shining in his eyes. He tired spitting his hair out of his mouth like he used to, before he remembered that it was too short.

Someone was talking a mile a minute, moving their hands animatedly as they explained something to someone else.

“Whsst?” Connor slurred, pushing himself off of his duvet and sitting over the edge of his bed. His blue jeans were all scuffed and twisted from sleeping in them, and Connor awkwardly pulled them round until they were comfortable to sit in.

The two people turned to him, and he blinked stupidly at them. There was a sigh, and the person reached over to the side table by Connor’s bed and handed him something. Taking them, Connor realised they were his glasses, and slipped them on.

It was his dad. And Zoe. In his room, in her pyjamas. Glaring at him.

“Connor,” his dad said sternly, and indicated at him to stand up. Connor obliged groaning as his knees clicked. His dad ignored him.

“We’ve got some… interesting news.” He said, and turned back to Zoe. She was watching her brother like a hawk, leaning back a bit like he would suddenly lunge out. Connor felt the familiar plunge in his stomach.

“The palace. There’s going to be a ball.” Was all she said, and crossed her arms across her leopard-print-onesie chest. Her dad looked between them, and sighed when he realised they weren’t going to say anything else.

“Connor,” he turned back to his son. “Prince Evan is throwing a ball to find his, umm, partner.” He scratched the back of him neck uncomfortably, staring at the ceiling. Connor knew he found it hard to talk about LGBT+ people, and Evan had come out as openly bi a year ago.

It had been quite a shock for the nation, as the prince was incredibly secretive and rarely shared any personal news. But apparently he’d gotten into an accident and ended up in hospital, and had some ‘personal discoveries’ as the magazines who then labelled him as ‘the sexiest bachelor of the year’ had put it, ending with him coming out.

“And, err, the invitation came today in the post.” Larry handed his son a slip of paper, which Connor carefully took from him. It was just a normal piece of plain paper, no fancy stationary or calligraphy, which was strange. Then again, most things Connor knew about the prince were strange, so he didn’t question it.

He scanned the paper quickly, written in New Times Roman, and paused at one particular line.

‘All eligible men and women between the ages of 17-23 will attend, and will converse with the prince. By tomorrow he will decide his bride or groom.’

What. The. Fuck?

“I-you can’t just-this isn’t-” Connor spluttered, reading and re-reading the line over and over. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Slow down, Connor. Zoe’s going, and she’s going to drive you.” Larry said in a no-nonsense voice, and looked down at his son with a strict expression. Connor’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“But, what if I don’t want to go, huh? What if-what if the prince is a creep, and he hits on Zoe and I punch him and I DON’T WANT TO GET MARRIED!” Connor screamed, and pushed his father’s hand off of his shoulder. He heard Zoe snort.

“Like that’s even an option.” She laughed, mockingly, and his breathing slowly evened out. Connor knew he was being childish, knew that he was basically throwing a tantrum, but the thought of Prince Evan hitting on him, on his _sister_ , still freaked him out.

Larry sighed heavily as he looked between the two of them.

“Well, there’s no chance you’re getting married, Connor,” he didn’t miss his son’s glare. “but it says all men and women, and Zoe just turned 17, so you’re going.”

Connor’s frown deepened.

“Well why can’t Zoe just go on her own? It’s not like anybody would miss me.” He argued. The hidden meaning behind his words didn’t go over his family’s heads, but no one said anything.

“Connor, _all_ men and women. And people would ask questions if you didn’t show.”

Connor groaned in annoyance, and fell back onto his bed. It was, again, pretty childish, but it was better than throwing something. Zoe glared at him even further.

“It’s not like I’m any happier about it.” She snapped. “Anyway, you’re coming shopping with me.”

He looked up at her with a surprised look. Why would Zoe want to spend time with him?

“I’m not showing up to that ball with you looking like a drowned rat.”

Oh.

Connor flopped back down again and shut his eyes. After a few moments he heard the door shut and fell back asleep.

 

* * *

 

Evan fiddled with shirt and swallowed as he looked out at the small crowd of faces mingling in the ballroom. The few people who had showed up early had already taken a shine to him, and Evan had slowly, and accidently, formed a band of groupies who trailed him everywhere. It was split between nervous teens who giggled every time they looked at him, and cocky young adults who seemed to take everything he said as an innuendo. Evan had spent enough years with Jared to know how to ignore those.

The shorter teenager had taken pity on his best friend (an upgrade from just friend, Evan was pleased to note) and was flirting shamelessly with some of Evan’s fan boys and girls. The prince’s face had turned an alarming shade of red as he overheard some of the things his BFF (too much Evan, dial it back) was saying to them.

The doors opened again, and Evan’s breath hitched. Every time more than five minutes passed without anyone entering he hoped that no one else would show. But this was a ball to find the prince a fiancé, everyone in the country would come.

“Hey, you all look pretty good in your suits. How about when I get back we all strip down to our socks?”

A weak moan was heard from behind Evan, and suddenly Jared was beside him, steering him away. The prince twisted his head around to see a few of the young men blushing and staring after them. Evan turned to give his friend a mock-glare.

“R-really? You c-couldn’t be anym-more subtle?” He asked, hoping he didn’t sound too peeved. The last thing he wanted was for Jared to get mad and leave him on his own.

Thankfully Jared just grinned and punched him good-naturedly in the arm, and they both laughed quietly. Evan was almost glad to notice that Jared had punched his arm (yeah, that arm) and hadn’t made a big deal out of it.

“Would you rather I disappear and unleash the hordes of fan-boys on you?” Jared asked, grinning. Evan grinned back and shook his head, a strand of his blonde hair falling over his eyes.

“N-no. Please do-don’t go.”

“Oop. Here comes another pair.”

Evan turned his head towards the door, and watched as young couple made their way into the ballroom. A girl in a classy dress decorated with stars, and a miserable boy in a tight-fitting black suit and pastel tie. With their brown hair and pointed features, they looked a little too much like siblings for Evan to think they were a 'thing'. He felt a bit disgusted that he had assumed they were a couple.

Jared whistled lowly as he look them up and down.

“Hmm, tall, dark and emo? Isn’t that your type Evan?” Jared asked playfully, watching as Evan’s blush went to volcanic. His eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Oh shit, seriously Evan? I know you like JD, but I just assumed that was a Christian Slater thing, not a submissive kink-”

“Shut up Jared!” Evan hissed, feeling his palms grow sweaty as a few people turned to stare at him. Including the boy. Fuck.

Jared saw his friend’s pained expression and immediately dropped it. He didn’t want to upset Evan even more than he already had.


	2. There's a fine line between Comfort and Oversharing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our first meeting between Connor and Evan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know where this fic is going, and i'm basically just making it up as I go (wink).  
> Please leave any suggestions in the comments below.

“Sorry, Ev, I just…” Jared trailed off, staring at the ground. Evan sighed and straightened up, plastering a smile onto his face.

“It’s okay. Sorry. I’m just being sensitive.” he apologised, all too eager to shift the blame onto himself. Dr Sherman had told him to stop doing that.

Jared stared back at his friend, and opened his mouth to correct the prince, but a voice cut him off.

“Evan, sweetie, can I borrow you for a second?” Queen Heidi interrupted, passing through the crowd like Moses. Jared mumbled something about needing a drink, and turned and walked away. Evan watched him go until his friend had been swallowed by the swarm of schoolgirls in the corner.

“Yeah, mum?” He turned back to his mother, twisting his shirt again. She placed a hand on his shoulder, and he dropped his own to his side. She sighed lowly.

“Ev, honey. I know this isn’t ideal.” Heidi told him, rubbing his shoulder lightly. “I wouldn’t be doing this if I could but, y’know…”

She also trailed off, looking her son in the eyes with a warm expression. He gave her a small smile, and swallowed the urge to burst into tears in her arms.

He didn’t want this. She didn’t want this. The only people who did were the public, and heaven forbid Evan upset them. Evan hated it. He hated that every time he stepped outside there was some guy in a fedora flashing a camera in his face. He hated that people sent letters and emails to him, like they knew him, like he would rush to their address and bring them their happily ever after like the Prince Charming he was supposed to be.

“I know mum.” he told her, placing a hand on hers. That was their unspoken rule for when he wanted her to let go. She quickly dropped her arm and gave him another sad smile, before turning and joining a group of middle-aged business men.

Evan hated that he had to marry to ‘make the public happy’. He hated that his royal status had been stripped down to being merely an eye-candy celebrity.

He sighed for what seemed like the tenth time, and went to go find Jared, before getting hit with something sharp and going spiralling backwards.

“Holy fuck, are you okay?!”

* * *

 

“Holy fuck, are you okay?”

Connor had slapped the prince. Connor’s backhand. Had made contact. With Prince Evan’s face.

Who was now holding said face with his own hand, and staring at the ground like it was going to hit him as well.

He should apologise. He really should. It had been an accident. But seeing the young man standing there, looking all the world like a damsel-in-distress, Connor was scared to breathe too loudly in case it broke him.

“I…” the blond spluttered, not looking the other in the eye. He had gone alarmingly red.

“I’m sorry.” Connor blurted, reaching out a hand. The Prince flinched immediately, and Connor subtracted it.

He didn’t think about Zoe flinching when he came near her. He didn’t think about people at school flinching when he walked towards them.

Instead, he carefully placed a hand on The Prince’s, the one that was holding his face, and made him look up. He sucked in a breath, and tried to look The Prince in the eye. Connor had never done this before, never… comforted anyone. It made him feel uneasy.

“Yeah, no, it’s-” Connor was about to apologise, before he noticed his hand on The Prince’s, and quickly pulled away.

“Sorry.” The blond muttered, inching back bit by bit. Connor sensed his need to leave, and gave him a fake smile. Hours of interrogations, sorry, ‘conversations’ with his Dad’s co-workers had Connor trained in the art of pretend-happiness.

He looked around quickly. What would be a good excuse to leave? Getting a drink? No, The Prince’s spectacled friend was there, chatting to some guests. Dancing? Absolutely not, Connor was not a dancer.

(Okay, he kind of was, but that was years ago, and beside the point)

As he scanned the room, becoming increasingly more aware of the awkwardness hanging between the two young men, Connor spotted the perfect opportunity. Such a shame that opportunity happened to have their hands on his sisters waist.

“Hey!” he yelled, and stormed over to a corner of the room, where a dark-skinned girl with glasses was dancing/gyrating with Zoe. The girls left apart like a hot rod had been placed between at them sound of his voice, and looked away.

Zoe turned to see the interruption of her ‘dancing’, and her pretty face twisted into a scowl when she saw her brother, glaring menacingly at her date.

“Connor, what the hell do you think you’re doing?!” she snapped, taking a step towards her brother. The back of Connor’s mind laughed a little bit, because this meant they were making progress. She would never have come near him during an argument before. Connor decided to ignore that thought, ready to dwell on it later.

“What are you doing?!” he retorted, placing his hands on his hips. It wasn’t the most threatening pose, but it stopped his hands from turning into fists.

‘Don’tmakeascenedon’tmakeascenedon’tmakeascene’ played like a mantra in his brain. Connor took a deep breath, and turned to the other girl.

“Alana,” he narrowed his eyes at her, but she didn’t seem frightened. She fiddled with her glasses and stared right back at him. “What are you doing here?”

Alana smiled politely at him and took Zoe’s hand, like a six-foot furious abuser wasn’t glaring her down in public.

“I’m here for the party, Connor. The invite said ‘all eligible girls’.” She explained, and Connor felt his shoulders lump slightly. God dammit Alana.

“If you’re so ‘eligible’,” he said, making quotation marks with his fingers, “then why were you dry-humping my sister?”

Zoe turned red, and looked ready to yell something back at him, but Alana beat her to it.

“Connor,” she said calmly. “There is an extremely low chance that Prince Evan will ever pick me, out of everyone here. In fact, there’s a higher chance of him picking Zoe than me.”

Zoe opened her mouth to protest, but Alana interrupted her again.

“It’s true Zoe, I tried to talk to him earlier, and he hardly said anything.” Connor rolled his eyes, a habit that he had yet to break.

“Did you talk a mile-a-minute, and interrupt everything he said?” He asked, and watched as Alana’s perky expression fell. He instantly felt bad.

“I-I didn’t realise.” She muttered, and looked to Zoe for support. The brunette placed a hand on the other girls shoulder comfortingly, before turning to glare again at her brother.

“Is that all you came for? Because you can leave.” She spat, and Connor shifted awkwardly. He was starting to regret not just going over to the punch table instead. Putting up with the Prince’s annoying little lackey would have been better than this.

Yeah, he’d heard that ‘JD’ comment earlier, the shithead had practically yelled it across the room. He took another deep breath.

“ _Actually_ , I came over because I wanted to talk to your girlfriend.” He told her, surprising himself at the calmness in his voice. Zoe turned red again, and stepped away from the other girl, mumbling about ‘not being her girlfriend’ and ‘not even dating’.

Connor ignored her, and turned to Alana.

“Did you really come here because of the invite, or was it because my dad wanted you to spy on me?” he asked, crossing his arms. Alana just stared at him for a moment, in that uncomfortable way when she wanted to know what you were thinking, and sighed gravely. She looked at him with wide eyes, and Connor became paranoid that she might try and hug him.

“Connor, I’m not working for your dad.” She told him in a soothing tone. As much as he hated to admit it, it kind of worked in calming him down. He unfrowned (was that a thing? Because that’s what it felt like) and stared at the floor. There was something inside of him slowly unravelling and he couldn’t figure out what it was. Shame, perhaps?

“I, um, I’m sorry.” He practically-whispered, and looked back at the two of them. Zoe couldn’t seem to believe her eyes at what he said, and Alana just nodded understandingly.

“I actually came here so it would good on my resume. Meeting The Prince isn’t something one can do every day.” She confessed, leaning in like she was sharing a secret. Connor laughed to dissipate some of the remaining tension.

He suddenly realised what she had said.

“Oh shit, The Prince!” he yelled, and twisted around to stare at where the blond had been standing. Instead there was an older couple slow-dancing, which even he had to admit was kind of sweet. But it did nothing to untangle to knot of panic in his chest.

“What is it, what’s wrong?” Alana asked, stepping forward to see what he was looking at. Connor turned back to her with wide eyes.

“I bumped into him earlier and I think it really freaked him out. What if he’s, like, hurt or something?”

Zoe raised an eyebrow at him, and did a quick scan of the room. Her eyes rested on the drinks table, and she gave her brother a poke in the side.

“He’s over there, asshole. Now relax, he’s not going to cry.” She told him, crossing her arms in a tired manner. Connor looked at where she was looking, and felt the knot tighten.

The Prince was by the drinks table, yes, and he was with his friend. But he was also downing glasses of wine like tequila shots, and had his arm round a little blonde girl in a skimpy red dress. The friend didn’t seem to be of any help, being just as drunk and chattering animatedly at The Prince.

In the –five? Ten?-minutes it took for Connor to argue with his sister and her girlfriend, the Prince had gotten hammered, apparently.

“Wow,” Alana stared at the young royal with a surprised expression, her mouth hanging open slightly. Zoe seemed equally surprised, watching the two of them with a look of regret and sympathy.

“Oh god, the papers are going to destroy him.” She muttered to herself. Connor gave her a confused look, slightly glad at the Prince’s display of dinking because Zoe seemed too distracted to remember her and her brother’s feud.

“But there isn’t any paparazzi.” He told her. She looked back at him with a sad expression.

“Yeah, but you think out of the hundreds of people here, nobody’s going to say anything?” she asked, and the knot tightened in Connor’s chest.

“Someone should really get him out of here.” Alana mused, not taking her eyes off of The Prince. Connor took a third deep breath and walked towards him, ignoring the girls shouts of surprise.

Why was he doing this? What was going to do? Connor didn’t know, but as he strode almost-confidently over to where the Prince was playing with the other blonde’s hair, he just wanted to take him away.

Connor had always been the number one cause of gossip at his school, and it burned him up inside whenever he heard whispers over whether he was gay or not, or was he playing to burn down the school. But as sickening as that was, he knew that High-School rumours were nothing against tabloid journalism. For one, people actually seemed to care about tabloids, and didn’t just read it to ‘fit in’ or whatever reason high schooler’s seemed to enjoy making each other miserable. Connor suspected boredom.

Connor snapped out of his thoughts as he came closer to the Prince. The Blonde (the female one) stopped giggling at whatever it was The Prince was saying, and saw the dark-haired young man making his way over. She whimpered slightly (it was more an act than actual fear) and cuddled the blond (the male one)’s arm.

Prince Evan noticed the girl’s change in attitude, and followed her gaze.

* * *

 

Fuck. Goddamn it.

If Evan were sober, he’d be a crying mess under the table by now. If Evan were sober, he’d be apologising over and over to the girl, freaking her out and scaring her away.

If Evan were sober, he wouldn’t be sauntering over to the hot emo-boy coming temptingly nearer.

“Pardon me, your highness,” Hot Emo Boy bowed slightly, giving Evan a very nice view of his neck. Maybe it was the liquor pouring through his veins (what else could it be?) but Evan suddenly got a shot of confidence.

“Heeyyyy, pretty thingggg…” he purred, inching closer to Hot Emo Boy. Jared was right, he did look like he could play JD. Hot Emo Boy’s head shot up, which was a shame, and looked behind him. Evan chuckled to himself, like he could be staring at anyone other than the Adonis in front of him.

Wait, was he staring? That was rude. And he didn’t want to be rude. He was totally being rude.

Evan frowned slightly. He wasn’t supposed to be thinking like that. There was only one solution to this; he turned around and poured himself another glass of wine.

Just as he was about to drink it, Hot Emo Boy (who Evan decided to call ‘HEB’) took the glass away. Evan stared at his own hand, taking a moment to wonder where the drink had gone. Then he looked up and saw it in HEB’s hand, and grinned impishly.

“Do you-do you want me to come and take the drink off-off of you?” he asked, creeping closer. HEB took a step back with a bewildered expression, and Evan’s confidence vanished in a second.

“Don’t you, don’t you like me?” he cried, feeling the tears building up in his eyes. Even when he was sober, Evan didn’t cry this quickly. Maybe the alcohol wasn’t helping…

…nah.

HEB reached over and placed the glass of wine on the table out of Evan’s reach. The Prince made his way closer to HEB, who started walking backwards. It was like an uncomfortable tango.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to add to this chapter, I just wanted to get one chapter out today and was running out of time.


	3. Communication is key, people

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> https://jds-therapist.tumblr.com/image/170727212010  
> That's my attempt at drawing Evan in this chapter, from my Tumblr. (I failed)

This is the weirdest moment of Connor’s life. He would have thought this was some drug-high, had he not been clean for the last three months. It hadn’t been a choice.

The Prince; the next-in-line, worth-over-a-million, nearly-engaged Prince, was practically chasing him around the dance floor. Wherever Connor went, The Prince would follow him around like a love struck puppy. Only that puppy was having imported wine practically pumped into his blood stream.

The spectacled friend had disappeared a while back, going off to look for more alcohol and drunkenly hit on older college students. Connor wished him bad hunting for getting The Prince hammered and leaving him alone.

No one had seemed to take any notice of the blondes strange behaviour; shortly after meeting him, most people with half an ounce of decency realized how uncomfortable he had been, and left him alone.

Unfortunately, most of the guests were high schoolers and young adults riddled with debt. Even Connor would take marrying a stuttering mess than have to deal with college loans for the rest of his life. So he’d spent a good amount of his night leading The Prince away from his groupies, with excuses like ‘he’s not feeling well’ and ‘he’s a bit tired, he might call it a night’.

On the contrary, the Prince was feeling fantastic. As Connor soon found out as he watched the shorter teenager run from the building. Using his training as newly-appointed footballer and coffee-carrier, Connor raced after him, distractingly apologising to everyone he had to elbow out of the way.

Connor chased him out through the doors and into the night, watching as his coattails disappeared past a large gate. Pulling the gate open Connor didn’t stop running, barely catching sight of the others blue jacket and black shoes as they turned another corner.

“Wait!” Connor yelled after him. He didn’t know where he was or what he was doing. All he knew was that The Prince was going to be badly injured if he didn’t catch up with him.

There was a giggling hiccup, and The Prince turned another corner. Connor twisted round the edge, and crashed straight into something.

He fell to the ground, clutching his side.

“Are you-are you okay?” A voice asked, and something touched the side of Connor’s face. It was probably meant to be gentle, but came off as a really slow slap.

“I, umm, yeah I’m fine.” Connor sighed, and sat up. The Prince was sitting beside him on the floor, watching him with wide brown eyes. Strange, Connor expected them to be blue.

“Are you sure?” The Prince asked, swaying slightly where he sat. Connor frowned at him and moved to get up, but the blond reached out and grabbed onto his sleeve.

“Stay.” Was all he said. Connor frowned even deeper at him, and he giggled woozily.

On the one hand, if he stayed out here, someone would come looking for The Prince. And it wouldn’t look good for Connor to be found with him in the middle of nowhere completely drunk.

On the other hand, if he took The Prince back, then he’d be hit on again by equally-drunk high schoolers. And there was no way that would end well. Plus, it would be best to keep the blond away from alcohol for a while.

He sighed, again, and sat back down. Surprisingly the ground was quite warm, and not at all damp.

“So,” Connor looked around and found himself surrounded by hedges. “Where are we?”

The Prince shuffled closer to him, resting his head on Connor’s shoulder. Connor couldn’t help but feel a bit uncomfortable about the close proximity.

“The palace maze.” He said simply, and smiled.

Connor went pale. Stuck. In a maze. With a drunk Prince.

Shit.

“You know how to get out, right?” He asked, trying to ignore the waver in his voice. The Prince hummed nonchalantly.

“Yeah, don’t worry. I can get us out.” He said, and moved away. He crossed his legs and watched Connor from beside him. The sound of music and laughter carried through the air, so Connor assumed they weren’t too far away from the palace.

They sat in silence for a while. Connor didn’t want to say or do anything to upset the other, as he was Connor’s only chance of getting back. He didn’t want to be left behind, with no food or water and having to eat the dirt to survive.

Anything seemed plausible at three in the morning while half-drunk.

A few more moments of silence passed before The Prince spoke up again.

“What’s your favourite colour?” he asked, smiling cheerily at the other. Connor gave him a funny look, then remembered he wasn’t supposed to piss him off, and looked at the ground.

“Umm, green?” he asked, running a hand through his short hair. He really, really missed it being long.

“Mine’s blue.”

“Good to know.”

“Favourite movie?”

“I dunno? The Godfather?” Connor wasn’t a movie person. He’d never been not-grounded long enough to allowed near the television. He hadn’t actually seen The Godfather, it just seemed like something The Prince wouldn’t have watched.

“I haven’t seen that.”

“Right.”

Connor just wanted to wait until The Prince became sober enough to lead them back to the palace, but apparently the blond had other ideas.

“Do you want to play truth or dare?”

“We’re in the middle of nowhere, what’s the point of a dare if no one can see us?”

“Do you want to play truth or truth?”

Connor laughed despite himself. Was it wrong to find a drunk stranger funny? Probably, but Connor had definitely done worse things in his life.

“Okay, you go first.” he said, crossing his legs as well. He felt like he was at one of those primary school sleepovers that he’d never been invited too.

“Okay. Truth or truth?” The Prince asked, and Connor laughed again. It wasn’t proper laugh, just sort of a nose-exhale. But it was made him feel better than he had in months. Maybe years.

“Truth.” He said, smiling. The Prince thought for a second, scrunching up his nose, and finally turned back to the other.

“Have you ever…” he paused for dramatic effect. Connor had to admit it was working. “…kissed anyone?”

Connor’s smile grew, and he uncrossed his legs, pulling them to his chest.

“No.” he told The Prince. “I haven’t. Have you?”

“You didn’t let me choose truth or truth!”

“Sorry. Truth or truth?”

“Truth.”

“Right. So have you ever kissed anyone?” The Prince grinned and leant back.

“Nope!” he yelled loudly, like he was proud of himself. That time Connor laughed properly, if only for a second. The Prince seemed even prouder after that. Then, out of nowhere, his face fell.

“I can’t kiss anyone,” he told Connor, still watching the sky. “Because I’m a Prince I have to wait until I’m married.”

Connor felt something in his chest fall slightly. He couldn’t help but feel so damn sad for the blond. Never been kissed, because of something stupid like that.

It was a shame, really. Because The Prince was actually really cute.

Connor felt his face flush, and looked to the ground. Those were feelings he hadn’t felt in years, now was not the time to be digging them back up again.

“I haven’t kissed anyone because…” he whispered, “…I’m gay.”

The Prince didn’t say anything. Instead he just sighed, and moved so he was laying in the ground.

“That’s a shame.” He said after a while. Connor frowned at him.

“Why?”

“Because you’re hot.”

Connor’s face felt like an oven, and he coughed awkwardly. The prince had just said that so casually, like it was no big deal. Maybe it was to him, he had just spent the last few hours being hit on, maybe random declarations of someone else’s attractiveness was an everyday occurrence to him.

“Well, um, anyway…” he hugged his knees tighter. The Prince seemed to take the hint.

“My mum’s not here.” He said, turning to look at the other. Connor raised an eyebrow at him.

“No one else is here. This is a maze.”

The prince laughed, and Connor’s head felt a little bit light. Now was not the time, though.

“No, I mean, she isn’t at the party.” The Prince shifted and leant his head on his hand. “She left a few hours ago to discuss business or something. Left me in charge.”

Connor turned to where he thought the music was coming from. The sound of laughter had grown louder.

“And she thought that was a good idea, because…?”

The Prince sighed sadly, and lay back on the ground. He stared wistfully at the sky. Somewhere, Connor heard a crow caw, all by itself.

“She’s never here. She’s always off to other countries, or giving out knighthoods and stuff.” The Princes eyes grew a bit misty, and Connor’s heart went out to him. Something inside of him seemed to grow control over his mouth however, making him blurt out;

“My mum’s dead.”

The Prince turned and gave Connor a surprise look. Then he reached out and took one of the others hands, and squeezed it tightly.

“I’m… I’m so sorry.”

Connor nodded, feeling the back of his eyes sting. Fuck, he hadn’t cried in ages.

“Yeah. She, umm, she committed suicide.”

Evan didn’t say anything, and Connor couldn’t put into words how much he appreciated that. He was sick of false apologies and stories of ‘when I knew your mother…’

“She took a whole bottle of pills. Drove out to an old orchard and overdosed.”

The stinging grew worse, until cold tears were running down his face. He didn’t know when it started, but somehow he didn’t want it to stop. He wanted to talk to someone, someone who would listen and not tell him to ‘man up’ or pity him.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered, rubbing his face with the back of his hand.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

 “Let’s, umm, let’s talk about s-something else.”

The Prince was silent for a moment, then looked back at the sky.

“What’s your name?” he asked finally. Connor wiped away the last of the tears before answering.

“Connor. Connor Murphy.” He said. The Prince nodded, as if trying to remember it.

“I’m Evan. Hansen.”

“Yeah, I know.”

The Pr-Evan sighed, and placed his hands in his lap.

“Sorry.” Connor apologised, and Evan shook his head.

“It’s okay. I just… hate having all of my information out to the public.” After the words left his mouth, Evan’s eyes went wide and he turned back to Connor with a horrified expression.

“I-I’m so sorry! You were just talking about your mother and now I’m talking about my problems, and you don’t want to hear that, and-”

“Ev, chill.” Connor laughed to himself. Evan didn’t seem any less panicked, but he stopped talking.

“Sorry.” He muttered, biting his lip.

“It’s okay. I’d rather talk about that then…” Connor trailed off, and Evan got the hint.

“What’s your, err, what’s you middle name?” Evan asked, wringing his hands together. He looked like he was having trouble keeping a secret, but Connor didn’t ask.

“Michael.” He said, smiling softly at the blond. It had been a while since he’d smiled, really smiled not just pretending to for his dad’s sake. He was sure he looked stupid, but Evan turned pink, and looked back at the stars.

“Mine’s Benjamin.” He muttered, running a hand through his hair. Connor felt his hand twitch, and remembered how badly he’d wanted to do that when he was younger.

No. Now was not the time.

“I used to have long hair.” He told Evan, who turned back to him with a shocked expression. Slowly, it morphed into a smile.

“Really?” he asked eagerly. Connor laughed, digging into his jacket pocket and pulled out his wallet.

“I think I have a picture if you want to-”

“Yes!” Evan yelled, and scrambled over to Connor’s side. Connor opened his wallet and pulled out a photo.

Him and his mum, standing in front of a blue backdrop. His mum was smiling, with her arm around him. He had a completely straight face, half hidden behind his curtain of shoulder length hair. He had been a head taller than her at the time.

Connor felt his stomach twist. He only agreed to have a photo taken with her and no one else, and that was only because she promised to buy him a new jacket. He didn’t know if she was happy because it was for the photo, or because she finally had a picture of him. He would never know.

“Wow.”

He looked back at Evan, who was staring at the photo with a small smile. It made his stomach twist even further.

“Is that your mother?” the blond asked, tracing a finger over Connor’s hair in the photo.

“Yeah.”

“She was very pretty.”

“Thank you.”

After Connor had put the photo away, the night continued. They talked about their favourite TV shows (Connor liked Total Wipe-Out, and Evan liked nature documentaries), favourite songs (Evan loved musicals, and Connor refused to say). They didn’t mention their families.

Somehow, the conversation headed to school. Particularly school plays.

“I r-really want to p-play a main char-racter.” Evan was saying, sitting cross-legged next to Connor, who was carefully leaning against a surprisingly sturdy hedge.

“Well why don’t you?” Connor asked. He hadn’t stopped smiling since the conversation had picked up. Not full face-hurt smiling. Just a small, tired smile.

“I have s-social anx-xiety.”

“Oh.”

Connor was surprised how casually Evan had said that, but didn’t press on it. He learned that if Evan didn’t want to talk about something, he just wouldn’t.

But that was a big thing to admit, even if Evan didn’t think so. Connor felt slightly guilty for not sharing something as well.

“I used to tap-dance.” He blurted, shifting uncomfortably against the hedge. He hadn’t told anyone since he was eleven. He had never been allowed to.

Evan leaned forward with interest. Connor realised a while back that the blond had becoming slowly more and more sober the longer they talked. He first suspected when he started stuttering in his sentences. Not that Connor minded.

“I, um,” he rubbed the back of his neck. He and Evan would never talk again, so he could say what he wanted. Somehow the thought made him sad.

“I used to go to do baseball, and my sister did dance. But then we swapped when we realised we weren’t every good. But then my dad found out and made me drop.” He said quickly, crossing his arms. Evan just nodded, and fiddled with a thread on his sleeve.

“T-that’s to b-bad.” He mumbled to the ground. “I-if I ever t-throw a pa-party, you c-can be the enter-rtainment.”

Connor laughed for what felt like the millionth time.

 


	4. A Drunk fic that furthers the plot? They do exist!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn't update yesterday guys! It was so cold my fingers wouldn't work on my keyboard, and as soon as I got home I passed out on my bed and woke up the next morning!  
> Anyway, enjoy!

“S-should we, err, should we be g-getting back?” Evan asked, wringing his hands together. Connor blinked at him, and looked up. The stars had slowly been replaced with fluffy pink clouds while they were talking, and the music from the palace was nothing but a dull hum in the background.

“Oh, yeah we probably should.” Connor carefully stood up on shaking legs, and held out his hand for Evan to take.

Evan stared at the hand like it was going to explode, before taking it and joining Connor. He swayed slightly, still somewhat drunk, and took Connor’s whole arm to steady himself.

Connor turned slightly pink but didn’t say anything.

“W-we should, we s-should go th-hat way.” Evan pointed towards the direction the music was coming from, through one of the mazes many arches. Connor nodded, only slightly annoyed that he hadn’t thought to go that way before, and lead Evan along.

‘Lead’ was the wrong word. More like ‘dragged’ as Evan hung lazily to his arm, occasionally stumbling over nothing in his drunken stupor.

“Ugh, m-my head’s go-oing to k-kill me tom-morrow.” He mumbled, cringing as the sun came into view from behind a hedgewall.

“It will still be better then how The Queen deals with you.” Connor smirked. A few months ago the internet nad exploded with a story of how Queen Heidi found her son and his friend (Jerry? James? Joeffry?) passed out in the palace wine cellar. How the story got out nobody knew, because according to said friend, (John? Jim? Jam?) it was nowhere near the first time.

When Connor had been told the news, and ‘told’ meaning ‘eavesdropping in the school bathroom’, he had been surprised that the palace had a wine cellar. Wasn’t that just asking for trouble? And wouldn’t all their wine be imported from who-knows-where?

Evan groaned even louder, and held his forehead.

“Oh g-od, you’re ri-ight. She’s goin-ng to murd-der me after t-this.” Evan stammered, staring intently at the ground as he tried to steady his footsteps. Connor snorted in mirth.

“Yeah. What did she do when she found you and…” (Jake? Jack? Jabin?) “... your friend?”

Evan looked up at him to say something, but accidently caught the sun and looked down again.

“Ja-ared?” he asked, and Connor mentally snapped his fingers. Jared!

“Yeah, him.”

Evan’s frown fell into something more depressing, before catching himself.

“He’s t-the one w-who introdu-uced me t-to drin-nking. He’s m-my best fr-riend.” He said with a small voice, and pointed to another archway. Connor ‘lead’ him through it, turning to him with a confused expression.

“I, err, I didn’t think you drank that often.” He told the blond, and quickly turned back to watching the doorway. He felt his face heat up in humiliation as Evan trailed along behind him.

‘What the shit, Connor? Who asks that?!’

Evan sighed lowly, unaware of Connor’s mental struggle.

“Not a-anymore. But m-my mu-um’s hardly he-ere, and J-Jared practi-ically liv-ves in th-he palace, so…” he trailed off, but Connor caught the implication.

‘Evan drinks to forget’ he realised. ‘And I drink to remember’.

He decided to drop the questions about Evan’s surprising drinking habits.

“So, err, how did you meet, umm, Jared?” Connor asked, sneaking a look at the shorter blond. Evan didn’t seem too upset by his small revelation, but maybe he was too pissed to realise.

“He was supposed to be my court jester.” He said, and turned slightly pink at Connor’s amused expression.

“I me-ean, I know w-we don’t ha-ave those any-ymore so h-he’s more lik-ke a pers-sonal com-median? Mum hire-ed him w-when I was l-little a-after…” Evan trailed off again, and this time Connor couldn’t find any hidden meanings. He decided not to dwell on it.

“Is he a good comedian?” He asked, putting a hand on Evan’s. ‘Just to steady him’ he told himself, as he watched the blond slip on a leaf. Evan still didn’t seem fazed by it, which told Connor there was still more alcohol in his system than previously thought.

“He w-was? But t-then when h-he got older he-e made hi-is jokes a lit-ttle, i don-n’t know, mean-ner? Like he h-has this run-nning joke t-that he’s o-only doing i-it for his c-car insur-rance.” Evan told him, blinking quickly. Connor tightened his grip on the other boys hand, and tried to ignore the heat in his chest. It would not look good if he showed up at the palace with a drunk _and_ crying Prince.

“Well why don’t you tell The Queen?” He asked. He still found it odd to hear Queen Heidi called something as simple as ‘mum’.

Evan shrugged slightly.

“He’s g-gotten better. I had an, umm, a-accident earlier in the y-year. And now h-he’s treating me like f-fine china.” Evan laughed. Connor swallowed a joke about how Evan was ‘Damn fine china’ and pulled the Prince through another maze. How big was this fucking maze, anyway?!

“Yeah, you were in the hospital, weren’t you-” Connor remembered, but was cut off by a shrill voice.

“Oh my god, Prince Evan, what are you doing?!” Someone yelled, and before Connor could blink, The Prince had been detached from his arm and was dragged away. Leaving Connor standing by the entrance of the maze surrounded by a gaggle of women in uniforms.

“How did you find him?”

“Is he okay?”

“What did you do?”

Question after question had thrown at him, and Connor barely had time to answer them before someone was pressed up into his personal space, scrutinising him. Connor took a wary step backwards, he was still too drunk to handle this.

“Go home,” the person commanded him. “We’ll contact you if anything happens.”

And then the women were all gone. Connor stood there for a few moments, contemplating going after The Prince, until he realised that he would never be able to find him in this monster of a palace, and turned towards what he assumed was the exit.

 

 


	5. Aw, yisss... two updates in one day...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an apology for not updating yesterday.  
> And yes, I made their middle names Mike and Ben

Evan snuggled deeper into his pillow as the sunlight hit him, burying his face in its warmth.

“Good morning honey.” a voice called to him. 

“Mmmumm.” He hummed, voice muffled by the pillow. 

“How did you sleep?” she asked, and Evan frowned slightly. Somehow she didn’t sound as cheery as she usually did.

In fact, she sounded a bit pissed. And not the way Evan had been.

“Good?” He tried, and heard her hum to herself. 

“Good. Then I suppose it’s time to get up.”

And suddenly all the warmth surrounding Evan had been stripped away, leaving him clutching his pillow for comfort. 

And then it hit.

Evan groaned loudly as wave after wave of nausea hit him, beating his brain like memory foam. 

“Mmmummm.” he tired to sit up, but was held down by a pair of cold hands against his arms. He groaned again, and struggled.

“No, no, honey. We’re going to stay here until you tell me  _ exactly  _ what happened last night.” She told him, letting go of his arms. Evan stifled a sob, and carefully opened his eyes.

His mother was lying at the end of his bed. At least, he assumed it was his mother, everything was too loud, too bright, too  _ much _ .

“Mum, what-”

“I come back from a very important meeting with Spanish officials, expecting to find you choosing a fiance, when instead you go and get plastered in a maze.” She snapped, and Evan lay back down on his pillow. Oh god, was that what had happened?

“Mum, I need-I need…” he struggled to get the words out, and heard her sigh.

“Oh, alright.”

He felt something hold onto him and pull his up. Evan shut his eyes against the changing scenery, and was placed on the floor.

Blindly swatting for something, he found the cold, porcelain call of the toilet, heaved himself up, and vomited spectacularly into it. 

“There, there.” His mother soothed, rubbing his back as he coughed up whatever it was he’d drunk last night.

“I’m sorry honey. But, you can understand why i’m upset?” she asked him, and he made a noise of agreement as another wave hit him. 

“At least I know where you are. I think Jared went M.I.A, because no one can find him. Knowing him he’s probably halfway to china with a six foot sandwich down his underwear.”

Evan laughed through the pain and stayed there, hunched over the water closet with his mum by his side, for a good half an hour.

After most of it had passed, he sat up clutching his head.

“Mum…” he moaned, and turned to look at her. She looked worried, and he felt the familiar sting of regret as he watched her stand up.

“Ev,” she sighed, holding out a hand to him. He took it, startled by the sense of deja vu as he was pulled to his shaking feet. 

“Ev, we need to talk.” 

Evan froze immediately, ignoring his blinding headache. Nothing good ever came after the phrase ‘we need to talk’. 

“Y-yes?” he asked, feeling his palms beginning to dampen. He clasped his hands, and she sighed again. Talking one in her hands, she circled a thumb over his hand in an attempt to calm him down. It didn’t work.

“Honey, it’s your nineteenth today…” she started, and Evan winced slightly. From both the headache, and the reminder. 

“Yeah, mum, I know.” he mumbled, looking at the ground. 

“Evan, you need to choose someone. And you can’t do that if you spent all night unconscious in a maze.” 

He blinked tiredly, and left the bathroom, stumbling like a fawn on drunk feet. 

“Sweetie, I know it’s hard but,” His mum continued, following him as he made his way back to his bed. 

Evan loved his mum. He’d die for her. 

That wasn’t an exaggeration, he’d tried before.

But there were times when he just wanted her to leave him alone, and she didn’t pick up the hint. Like now, for example. Or maybe she did get the hint and was choosing to ignore him.

That seemed more likely. 

“Evan, we don’t have a choice, you need to choose someone.” she pleaded, and Evan tired not to burst into tears. He was nineteen, he wasn’t a child anymore. 

He was nineteen, and he couldn’t pick up the phone.

He was nineteen, and he couldn’t talk to people without scaring them away.

He was nineteen, and he had every inch of his personal life plastered over the news every morning.

Evan swallowed the large lump in his throat, and pulled back the covers, climbing back into bed. Crying with a hangover could only end in pain and disaster.

“Ev, honey…” his mum begged. She sounded close to tears himself. 

The door to his bedroom opened, and Evan instinctively pulled the covers up closer to his chest. It was ridiculous because no one over than staff came in, but he was still wary.

“Good morning your majesty.” A man in a white coat called cheerily the blonde woman at the foot of Evan’s bed, completely ignoring Evan himself and started unpacking plates and bowls from his tray. 

Ah, breakfast. Where Evan sat awkwardly in his bed while a group of servants attempted small talk. Sounded a lot like most of his life. 

Evan hated his life, sometimes. 

“And how are your today?” His mum asked politely, toying with the side of Evan’s bed cloth. Apparently nervous ticks were genetic.

The servant whose name Evan would never remember went on to discuss the goings on of the palace workers, while Evan blocked him out.

His mum was talking, and the servant was talking, and sometimes the people behind him would start talking, and the plates and cutlery were making too much noise.

And last night had been the same, and Jared had noticed and filled him with cheap wine that he had smuggled in.

And they’d gotten hammered and it reminded him far too much of when Jared used to be an asshole and pressure Evan into drinking.

But now it was different because he knew drinking calmed Evan down.

And Evan had flirted -or tried to- with a hot, tall boy with long hair and a middle name.

What was his middle name? 

Matthew?

Mickey?

Mike?

Michael!

“Connor Michael Murphy!” Evan cried, the name coming to his head in an instant. 

The sound of conversation died, and Evan felt his face heat up as all eyes turned to him.

“What did you just say?” His mother asked, with wide eyes.

Evan had to make a choice.

He had to choose someone.

And Connor had been so kind and taken care of him.

And he’d just been there…

“I’ve chosen…” he stuttered, wringing his hands together, “...Connor Murphy, as my fiance.”

Crying while hangover is bad.

Making life-changing decisions while hangover is catastrophic. 


	6. Evan was like Art. Shitty, performance piece Art. But Art all the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you ready for an actual plot?!

“Connor!” 

Connor jolted from his bed, accidently kicking his chest of drawers as he struggled to untangle himself from the maze of duvets laying over him.

Oh, maze. Right.

Connor felt his face -and other parts of him- heat up as he thought back to last night. The Prince, the alcohol, the maze… the confessions.

“Connor Michael Murphy!”

Finally wrestling himself from his bed, Connor stumbled to his bedroom door and unlocked it, finding a red-faced sister on the other side.

“Connor.” she said, staring at him. She didn’t seem angry, like she usually did. Just dazed.

“What?” he asked, leaning on his doorway with his arms crossed. “Did Alana finally let you into her GPA grades, if you know what I mean?”

What? Connor couldn’t even think clearly enough to be embarrassed over that blunder.

Zoe blushed anyway.

“No, shut up.” she protested, crossing her arms as well. She frowned at him, before seeming to realise something, and went back to looking dazed.

“Seriously though, what’s wrong?” he asked. 

Connor worried for his sister. A lot. Before… his mother died, he was constantly paranoid for her, pushing away anyone who might come close to her. It caused her a lot of grief, who in turn, caused Connor a lot of grief.

But even now he would lay awake at night, nervously thinking up terrible scenarios whenever she went out. Catholic guilt, perhaps. 

Maybe it was just plain old guilt, on its own. Connor had had a lot of that lately.

“Zoe?” he asked, and she turned away. She didn’t leave though, which Connor considered a step up.

“It’s… you’ve got a letter.” she told him, holding out an envelope for him. He took it and turned it over.

‘Connor Michael Murphy

Mayjay Street

Boardstown, Jersey 1964

USA’

Connor frowned at it, but didn’t open it.

“They used my middle name.” he noticed, picking at the paper. It had been opened, but that wasn’t a surprise. He never got any letters.

“Yeah…” 

“No one else knows my middle name.”

“Connor.” Zoe looked up at him, into his eyes. Connor felt light with relief. 

This was progress.

“Yeah?”

“We opened it.” Zoe told him, looking strangely guilty. Connor quirked an eyebrow.

“So? I don’t mind.” 

Her eyes widened, and Connor noticed they looked strangely wet. He wanted to pull her into a hug, but resisted. They weren’t there yet.

“So… the letter.” She started, and he looked back down at it.

“Oh yeah. What does it say?”

“Read it.”

He stared at her, mouth slightly open. 

“I can…”

She shrugged “It’s your letter.”

Connor nodded and swallowed. He tucked the letter into his pajama bottoms pocket, and followed her as they moved into the sitting room.

Connor’s father was sitting at the table, staring at it like it held the meaning to life. 

“Dad…” Connor asked, watching him with a confused expression.

“Connor.” His father waved him over, and the two brunettes moved to the table and sat down.

“Seriously, what’s going on?” Connor asked, pulling the letter out again.

“Read it.” His father said. Connor stared at him in surprise, then checked with his sister, who nodded.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled out a piece of paper from the envelope, and unfolded it.

‘Dear My Murphy,

This morning his royal highness Prince Evan titled you as his new fiance.

Please come to the palace at exactly 18:00 this afternoon to discuss the affair. Please bring your family.

Sincerely, 

Queen Heidi.’

And that was it. No explanation, no questions. Just a time, date and place.

“Is this a trick?” Connor demanded, not taking his eyes off of the letter. From his peripheral vision, he saw Zoe wince. 

“No, Connor. I swear it’s not.” His father told him, watching him closely. “You can check the watermark.”

He passed over a glass of water that Connor hadn’t noticed before, and Connor held it over the piece of paper. The letters ‘HRHH’ stood emblazoned at the top of the paper, surrounded by fancy symbols and flowers.

Her Royal Highness, Hansen. The royal watermark.

“Fuck.” Connor breathed. His hands started shaking, making the words on the paper impossible to read. 

“Do you,” his father cleared his throat awkwardly, “Do you want to go?”

It took a while for Connor to answer, the words not getting in through the shock and disbelief.

“I’m… i’m…” he couldn’t quite get it out.

“Connor?” Zoe asked, carefully leaning over the table to take the paper from him.

“Y-yes.” he stammered, lowering his hands. “Yes, i’m going.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should point out that, yes, I know Ben Platt's hair is brown. But it looks blond, so I'm saying it is!


	7. Great Googly Moogly, its all gone to shit

Evan stood at the top of the stairs, sweating waterfalls.

'This was a mistake,' he told himself, his grip on the banister tightening.

'This was a mistake, Connor was a mistake, you're a mistake-'

"Hey, you okay there, buddy?" Evan was jolted out of his thoughts by a hand clapping gently onto his shoulder.

He turned and saw Jared watching him, and gave his friend a small smile.

"Y-yeah. Just, y'know, nervous." he admitted, twisting the hem of his shirt. Jared frowned behind his glasses, but didn't say anything.

"So, err," he cleared his throat awkwardly "you still haven't told me who your choice was."

"Oh g-god. So-orry Jared." he stammered, holding his hands up in front of him. "It's just w-with everyt-thing that's been going on, i kind of f-forgot."

Evan's eyes widened, and he quickly began to backtrack.

"I-I mean not forget, but like, not remember? Cause forgetting you would be, like, super rude so-"

"Ev, chill." Jared grinned at him, showing no signs of being distressed at being forgotten.

"I'm not mad. I get it, you've been busy. Besides, im going to meet them now, aren't i?"

Evan sighed quietly, and smiled back.

"Yeah. So, do you want to know who it is?"

"Hell yeah!" Jared clapped his hands together in anticipation, making Evan jump slightly.

"Okay," Evan let out a shaky breath, "his names... Connor Michael Murphy."

Jared froze. His eyes went wide. Then, he went slightly red.

"Ev..." he muttered, staring at his friend. The blond took a step backwards.

"What?" Evan managed to get out, before Jared was doubled over, howling with laughter.

"Oh. My. God, Ev!" Jared cried. He pulled up his glasses and rubbed his eye. Evan frowned at him.

"What? Do you know him?"

"Know him? He go to the same school!" Jared practically shrieked, clutching his sides.

"Oh. Is he... nice?" Evan knew it was a stupid question, but he couldn't stop himself from asking. Jared was almost on the floor by this point, gasping for air.

"No!" he managed, before breaking into peals of laughter. Evan paled.

"What do you mean?" he asked, anxiety quickly creeping back into his previously-excited mid. Jared didn't notice.

"He threw a printer at our teacher in second grade, because he didn't get to be line leader." Jared panted, getting back on his feet. He had gone an alarming shade of purple, but had regained the ability to speak. Evan was too wrapped up in his own head to notice.

"That was second grade." he reasoned outloud. "and how the hell does a second grader even throw a printer?"

Jared shrugged, oblivious to his friends internal struggle. Evan felt like screaming at him.

"I dunno. And hes skinny too, which is weird. But anyway, he went really quiet over the past year. He actually shows up to lessons instead of skipping, and cut all his hair off. Did you know it used to be by his shoulders?"

Evan nodded, listening intently as Jared continued his horror stories.

"I think he stopped smoking weed to, he used to be a huge pothead, and started wearing pastel. He used to show up everyday in the same skanky jacket and womens jeans. _Womens_ jeans, Evan."

Jared giggled to himself, but Evan didn't feel do happy.

"But hes okay now, right?" he asked desperately. He knew it was pointless; nobody like that never became 'okay', but he was searching for any sign of change. He was going to marry this man!

"I think he does football now," Jared frowned as he tried to remember. "and rugby, and baseball. And he think he has a small job at his fathers law firm. And by small, i mean coffee carrier, not secretary or anything."

"How do you know that?" Evan asked. Jared wasn't always in the loop: who knows how the rumours might have been changed before they got to him.

"Alana Beck told me." Jared shrugged, and Evans heart dropped. Alana Beck wasn't a liar, or easily fooled. He was doomed.

 


	8. Godammit

The car ride to the palace was uneventful. Connor was sitting squashed next to his sister, opposite his father. It was the closest any of them had been together in months.

Admittedly it had been a surprise when Connor had woken up to find a limo outside his front door, and an even greater one when his family insisted on coming with him.

He shouldn’t have been however; Zoe would have taken spending half an hour next to her brother if she could drive past her school in a limo. And his father probably just wanted proof that his son was engaged to The prince.

Evan. His name is Evan, Connor reminded himself. They were engaged, apparently, so he might as well start referring to him by name.

Still, there was a large part of Connor that told him that this wasn’t real. That it was all a joke, a cruel trick being played on him.

‘Hey this kid doesn’t seem mentally stable or generally very happy. Let’s pretend to propose so we can all laugh at him!’

Connor wondered if this had been told to the public yet. Evan mentioned that he didn’t like the publicity that came with being royalty, but Connor learned not to trust everyone he met.

It was like someone had looked into his diary from when he was twelve and made all of his pre-pubessant dreams come true.

Meeting, getting along with _and_ marrying Prince Evan all in the span in a couple of days? It was too good to be true.

Connor felt his face grow red as he remembered his rather embarrassing infatuation with the blond in his earlier years. There was something about his bright eyes and shy demeanor that drew Connor to him. It was also what lead to Connor coming out as gay.

His father hadn’t said anything.

Zoe stole his moment by coming out as pan the moment he had finished. Connor knew it was stupid to get angry, she probably hadn’t known she was stealing his spotlight. They had all been a little too emotional after Connor had…

Anyway, he was over it now.

His mother had been a little too eager to show her support, always bringing up gay marriage at the dinner table and trying to convince the family to go to pride. It had never happened.

Connor wished they had gone, even though he knew they wouldn’t have enjoyed it. Parades were not his thing.

“Are you okay?” His father asked, giving Connor a strange look. The brunete realised he was still blushing, and looked down. His father coughed into his fist, and stared out the window.

“So this is… exciting.” He said awkwardly, and Connor frowned at the floor. He knew his father was trying. He just wished he wouldn’t make it seem like such a challenge.

“Yeah.” Connor muttered. He saw Zoe looking between the two of them out of the corner of his eye.

“Why would the prince pick you?”

Connor grunted.

“I-I mean, not that he wouldn’t pick you. It’s just... um,”

“Yeah, I get it.” Connor saved his father from the torture of finishing his sentence. Zoe just groaned loudly, and hit the back of her head onto her seat.

“What?” Connor asked, trying not to glare at her. Old habits were hard to break.

“It’s just,” she made some sort of sign with her hands. “you’re engaged to the Prince, and you don’t even seem excited! The girls at my school would kill to be in your position right now!”

Connor just blinked at her, before trying to smile. He was sure it came out as more of a grimace.

“I… just… don’t feel well.” he lied quickly, biting his tongue. Lying had always come so easily to him when he was till the long-haired, black-nailed delinquent his family knew and hated. But now, it seemed like his words fell like custard on a street corner. He felt… bad, somehow. Zoe glared at him.

“Well at least try and cheer up. You aren’t showing up at the palace with a face like a slapped ass.”

“Zoe!” Their father yelled at her, and she shrunk back in her seat. She had always been a daddy’s girl, so getting told off was alien to her.

Connor had always gravitated more towards their mother. He wasn’t her favourite by any means. But when he was younger she was the one he went to when he had a problem.

When he was younger.

Once the limo finally pulled up to the carriage, Connor was a ball of nerves. Although his disinterested expression didn’t show it, his mind had somehow conjured up every worst case scenario in the final five minutes of the ride.

  
Everything from accidentally calling The Queen ‘mum’ to setting the palace on fire was circling in his mind as he stepped onto the pavement.

  
His legs felt like jelly, and he almost collapsed onto the ground.

  
“Come on Connor.” His father urged sternly, moving past him towards the golden gates. He straightened his back with an ugly *pop* and followed, not before being overtaken by his sister.

  
“Hey,” he called out to her. She completely ignored him and kept moving. Connor sighed: back to square one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned Cynthia's dead yet> I feel like I haven't brought that up enough yet.


	9. The Following Chapter Contains Scenes of a Naked Connor Murphy...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... you're welcome.

Pushing open the doors, Connor was immediately attacked with a dozen women surrounding him, fussing and fretting over his hair, his clothes, his everything. Connor tried swatting them away, but his father barked at him to stay still and he froze.

After what seemed like an eternity the women finally let go, and stepped back to give him room.

“Now you don’t really look like a Prince’s fiancé, do you?” One of the women asked to herself, stroking her chin. The other women murmured in agreement, and Connor almost reminded them that that was because he’d just been ambushed by an army of maids. But one glare from his father and he bit his tongue.

“Ah well,” the woman said, clapping her hands together. “We’ll sort you out in no time. Just follow us and we’ll prepare you for meeting The Prince.”

The woman trotted off, followed by several others, while a few separated from the group to join Larry. They muttered something to him, too quiet for Connor to hear, before leading him and Zoe away.

Connor watched them go with equal parts uncertainty and frustration. He didn’t even want to be here, he just wanted to go home.

Which was strange because going home was usually the worst part of Connor’s day.

“Come on!” One of the women called out to him, and he hurried after them.

They lead him through hallways and corridors and door after door after door. When they finally stopped, Connor felt like he was back in the maze again, and knew for sure he couldn’t leave without a guide.

“Well,” The woman from earlier called to him expectantly. Connor looked to where she was standing, and paled.

There was a large, expensive looking bath beside the wall, big enough to hold at least three people.

“I, umm,” Connor tried to say something, but the words got stuck in his throat. ‘Was this was Evan feels like all of the time?’ he thought to himself.

The woman sighed, and made her way across the room towards him.

“Come on, we haven’t got all day.” she commanded, and Connor was too lost in his own thoughts to notice, until he felt a pair of hands grab a hold of his shirt.

“Wait, wha-” he began, but was cut off by his shirt being pulled over his head. In the blink of an eye, his trousers had been unbuttoned and his shoes were unlaced. Soon he was standing in the giant bathroom surrounded by older women in just his vest, socks and boxer shorts.

They were black, and covered in marijuana leaves; a secret Santa gift last year at school from some kid. What was his name? Milo? Matthew? Michael?

Connor placed his hands over his crotch in an attempt to cover up the rather embarrassing design, among other things. It was a very cold bathroom after all.

Some of the woman laughed, and turned to fuss over the bath taps, leaving Connor alone. It hadn’t been a school girl giggle at seeing a half-naked young man. It was the laugh of someone who had seen plenty of half-naked young men during their job, and simply didn’t care anymore.

Connor shifted awkwardly. Plenty of embarrassing things had happened in his lifetime; mostly due to the weed, but this was definitely in the top five. Some of these women were old enough to be his grandmother.

Suddenly Connor’s arm was grabbed, and he was pulled closer to the bath. Before he could say anything, his vest was pulled off, and his socks were removed. Someone, and it bothered Connor that he couldn’t see who, made a reach for his boxers, but he quickly grabbed them.

“No!” he yelled, turning red in the face. There was a sigh, and some of the women moved away.

“Sorry.” he muttered, loosening his grip on the elastic.

“It’s alright dear. This must be very new to you.” a woman said, and the rest took a couple of steps backwards to give him some space.

Still highly humiliated, Connor gently pulled down his boxer shorts, expecting to hear gasps and giggles but instead heard nothing, and kicked them aside. One of the women stepped forward and picked them up off of the ground.

Taking a deep breath, Connor stepped into the bath. He gasped slightly at the warm water, but sunk in quickly. He found he could hide in the mountains of bubbles, and pulled them closer to his chest. The cold air was having uncomfortable effects on his body.

Then the women got to work, rubbing salts into his skin and pulling his hair around as they applied lotion after lotion. Connor was convinced it was falling out as he was tugged around by a million grabbing hands. It was so sudden he forgot to be embarrassed by it. Thankfully none of the women had made a reach for his downstairs.

Finally, after what felt like an age, the women eased up, and Connor felt something purple and foul-smelling being rubbed into his hair. Noticing his disgusted expression one of the women, presumably the leader, stepped forward to help him. He wouldn’t admit it, but Connor quite liked having his hair stroked like that.

“It’s a very expensive shampoo,” the woman explained. “brought all the way over from Russia. It will help you hair to grow longer, faster.”

“But what if I don’t want long hair?” Connor grumbled, shifting in the water. Somehow it was still warm, and filled with bubbles. He suspected that was a trick only mega-rich people knew when it came to baths.

“Well the Prince does, so keep still.” she instructed, and Connor stopped squirming.

“The Prince wants long hair?” he asked. He thought Evan looked perfect with short hair. Not that he’d ever admit it, obviously.

The woman sighed as if he’d said something incredibly stupid.

“No, he wants you to have long hair.” she explained. There was some rustling, and Connor only had time to close his mouth before having hot water tipped over him.

He yelped as it hit him, and shut his eyes. It only lasted for a minute before the woman held him by the shoulders and pushed him down.

Connor struggled against her grip, a mantra of ‘she’s trying to drown me, she’s trying to drown me, she’s trying to drown me’, playing in his head. Some more hands joined to scrub at his hair while he was underwater, and he was suddenly pulled back up.

Connor gasped, and spat out a mouthful of soapy water.

“What… the ...hell?” he asked, breathing like he’d ran a marathon. The woman ran a hand through his hair, and he sunk into her touch. It was a weirdly soothing gesture.

“I’m sorry dear, but we needed to rinse your hair.” she explained, and turned away.

This went on for a few more minutes; hair lotion, almost drowned, hair lotion, almost drowned, before Connor was pulled out of the bath.

There was a flurry of soft towels rubbing against every inch of him (well, almost every inch), when the woman clicked her tongue and almost all of the others disappeared out of the door. It was just her and Connor alone in the bathroom, and he took an uncertain step backwards.

“Don’t worry dear, we’ll leave you alone to get dressed. I’ll be waiting outside to take you to the dining hall.”

And then she left.

Connor felt like crying. Something about the palace made years of stone-expressions and cold demeanors melt away. Here he was, in a giant bathroom after being manhandled by a group of adult women, completely naked and vulnerable.

Connor didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be at the palace or school or home. He didn’t know where he wanted to be, but it wasn’t here. He was all alone, and he hated it. He felt the familiar pull in his chest of… something. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew he didn’t like it. He wanted things to go back to how they were, of slamming doors and smoking weed. It was better than being ignored and ordered around all the time.

Sighing, and pushing those feelings away, Connor turned to see a pile of clothes sitting on the toilet. He picked them up and started pulling them on.

When he was finished, he spotted a hairbrush in front of the mirror, and when he went to get it, saw himself properly for the first time that day.

He was in a very expensive black button-down shirt, with black trousers and black socks. Connor wondered if Evan had chosen them. Long-hair-potion and dark clothes, it was definitely similar to the picture he had shown him a few nights ago. Except now he looked presentable, and not just like some school-shooter.

Connor brushed his messy hair, which had been sticking up in all directions, and was surprised to see it had grown longer. Just by the tiniest amount, only noticeable to those who were looking for it. And Connor had spent many hours in front of the mirror tugging at it, willing there was a way for it to grow longer again. Turns out there was; it just had to be imported from Russia apparently.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapters, I just don't have a lot of time to write nowadays. Hopefully the image of naked-Connor-Murphy should make up for that.  
> And yes, I did make a reference to Michael Mell in the chapter, don't judge me.  
> Weed boxers and hair stroking are my favourite Connor hc's.  
> And no, the Russian hair-growing shampoo doesn't exist. Sorry.


	10. Jared to the rescue

Evan watched with bated breath as plates, bowls and cutlery were placed on the table in front of him, piling up like a mountain of calories. He didn’t know why; he rarely ate on his own, and Connor didn’t look like he was a great food lover. 

Connor. Right.

Evan felt his stomach twist even further at the name. What had he been thinking? Connor would be furious, he wouldn’t want to be engaged to Evan of all people. If Evan didn’t like Evan, Connor definitely wouldn’t. He would come storming in and call the whole thing off, and demand to know what Evan was doing, because spending a night in a maze drunk didn’t count as getting to know each other, and Evan wouldn’t be able to speak because he hated being yelled at, and Connor would just yell even louder and-

“Prince Evan.” a voice called, and he jumped in his seat. Turning red, he saw a group of women crowd by the door. 

“Y-yes.” he said, without really knowing what he was agreeing to. The women nodded, and parted to reveal a young man standing in the doorway.

Evan’s breath hitched. 

_ Connor. _

A tall, thin young man dressed in all black, with short brown hair. Like a vampire, Evan thought, then quickly dismissed the idea. Vampires were for teenage girls and young mothers would didn’t understand the difference between a healthy relationship and stalking.

“‘ Sup, fucks ?”

Evan was, thankfully, brought back to reality by a yell. Dragging his eyes away from Connor, who hadn’t seemed to notice him yet, he saw a second, shorter boy making his way towards the table. 

“H-hey Jared.” Evan muttered, secretly quite pleased to see his friend. And confused.

“Hello dear,” Evan’s mother greeted her sons friend politely, before resuming her conversation with the head chef. 

“Mum, w-what…” Evan asked, trailing a hand through his hair anxiously. He didn’t miss Connor watching the action.

“I thought having Jared here might make the situation easier for you.” she explained, giving her son a small smile. Evan turned pink, and moved some of the plates to make room for his friend. 

“But won’t t-that be, like, s-super awkward?” he asked.

“Gee, thanks. I feel loved.” Jared rolled his eyes behind his glasses. Evan’s mother swatted his arm affectionately.

“S-sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Jared leant back in his seat and turned to yell at Connor.

“Hey Christian Grey! Are you just gonna stand there or can we eat already?”

Connor ducked his head, and shuffled into the room. Evan glared at his friend, trying to ignore his growing blush.

“Jared, don’t be a d-dick.” he warned, but before the other could retort the doors opened again, and two more people wandered in. One was the girl from the party, the other was a man Evan didn’t recognise. 

They were directed to their seats by to of Evan’s maids, looking slightly lost. The girl was sat next to Connor, and gave him a surprised once over, before staring at the table. 

The man looked like he was trying way too hard to look professional. Evan, Jared and Connor had simple shirts and black jackets in blue, red and black. The man had a fancy suit, like was dressed for a business meeting, and the girl had a party dress. They both shifted uncomfortably. 

Jared reached forward and started helping himself to pieces from the large chicken in the center of the table. Roasted, obviously, there wasn’t a live chicken waiting to be pulled apart in front of them.

“So, Connor,” he started conversationally, and Evan shuffled further into his seat. Jared’s conversation starters often ended in yelling, crying and one time, hospitalization. 

“What are your intentions with my son?” he asked. Connor frowned in confusion, and the man gave Evan a very surprised look.

“S-stop telling p-people i’m your s-son.” Evan scolded, and Jared patted his shoulder. 

“I need to be the father figure around the house since your real father is a penis-brain.”

As much as Evan liked slagging off his father with Jared, now was not the time.

“Jared, there a-are people h-here, don’t b-be annoy-ying.” 

Jared just huffed and turned back to Connor. 

“Seriously, what are you going to do with him? Because I don’t want to come home to find him hanging upside down from the ceiling in his underwear.”

“Jared!”

The girl stifled a laugh, while the man just picked at his own meal. Connor rolled his eyes.

“I solemnly swear I will not enforce any horrifying BDSM kinks onto your innocent son.”

“Connor!” The man yelled, and Jared didn’t even try to hide his giggles. 

“Favourite movie?” he asked, leaning forward with interest.

“What?” Connor asked, leaning back. 

“I need to know you if you’re going to be living here.”

Evan had expected some sort of reaction, like yelling or throwing something from the man and the girl. Instead they just kept eating, like they hadn’t heard. 

“The Godfather.” Connor answered, picking at his nails. He still hadn’t put anything onto his plate.

“What?” The man looked up with a surprised expression. Evan thought that was a strange thing to get surprised over when just moments ago it was mentioned that your son wouldn’t be living with you anymore.

“Um, yeah, it’s The Godfather.” Connor said, rubbing his arm. 

“When have you seen The Godfather?” The girl asked, watching him with a scrutinising expression. Evan got the feeling they were ganging up on him. 

“A few years ago?”

“You were never allowed on the television.”

Connor made the same face Evan made when he was caught up in a lie.

“Well… i’ve seen it before.”

“No you haven’t.”

“Yes I have!”

“No you haven’t!”

“Mine’s Transformers.” Jared interrupted, looking like he was completely unaware of the brewing tension in the room.

“O-of course it is.” Evan quipped, rolling his eyes. “You j-just like it b-because of t-the explo-osions.”

“What else is there to like?”

Evan shrugged. “Meghan Fox?”

“I’m gay.”

“Yeah, and she’s not my type. But still.”

“Okay, fair enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to redo this chapter.


	11. In the words of Pitch Perfect; Aka-awkward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because Ben Platt was in Pitch Perfect? Man, I hate those movies.  
> Also I can't believe I can't believe I kept forgetting to add this: my tumblr is jds-therapist.

Connor watched the exchange with wide eyes. Evan and his friend, Jared from the party, were just continuing their conversation like nothing had happened. Connor went back to picking at his food, too shy to ask for more, not shy enough to not jump into the conversation.

“Actually I lied about The Godfather being my favourite movie. I don’t have one. Sorry.”

Jared just shrugged like it was no big deal, and went back to discussing the semantics of whether Tutant Meenage Neetle Teetle would go down in history as a successful meme. Connor decided he liked Jared.

His father cleared his throat loudly, dragging their attention back to him.

“I really think we should be discussing your engagement, your highness.” He said, bowing his head a little bit. Connor glared at his plate, and Zoe started stabbing her piece of chicken with her fork.

Evan looked at Jared for help, who nodded, and turned back to Larry.

“Er, yes. We should. Do that.” He stumbled over his words awkwardly. Connor’s heart went out to him; it was only going to get worse.

“When will the wedding be?”

Evan’s eyes went wide, and Connor’s jaw dropped.

They were going to have a wedding. He’d actually forgotten about that. It threw him for a loop.

“I, um, I d-don’t kn-I m-mean have-en’t dec-cided y-yet.” Evan cleared his throat uncomfortably. “We should tell the public about this first though.”

Connor’s father nodded, clearly not picking up on Evan’s discomfort.

“I think I should meet with your mother to discuss this with her.” he said, fiddling with his wine glass in the way that Connor knew meant that he was trying to look nonchalant.

Evan ducked his head and stared at his plate, and the table went silent. Jared just continued his meal, actually keeping his mouth shut for once.

Connor wished he had something to say. Thankfully his sister had far more experience with social interaction than he did.

“My friend Alana said she met you at the party she threw. She’ll probably be a big help; she has an apprenticeship at one of the local newspaper companies and goes to this really prestigious private school.”

“Alana Beck?” Evan asked, and shrunk away as all eyes turned to him. Zoe raised an eyebrow haughtily.

“Yeah… you do remember her?”

“She, er, she g-goes to my s-school.” Evan told her, going slightly pink. Zoe’s eyes widened.

“Really? I’m surprised she didn’t recognise you.” She admitted, and Evan shifted in his seat.

“Yeah, we d-don’t really t-talk that mu-uch.” he said. Zoe nodded and, once again, Larry couldn't let anything go.

"You really should. She's an incredibly bright young lady. And very good friends with Zoe." He boasted. Connor snorted into his drink at 'very good friends' and Zoe sent him a death glare. Jared also seemed to pick up on what Connor was putting down, and wiggled his eyebrows at the younger Murphy.

"Oh, I'm sure she is." he said, smiling politely at Larry, who didn't seem to find anything wrong. 

* * *

 

By the end of the evening, Evan felt ready to crawl into a little ball and sleep for a thousand years.

Admittedly, it hadn't been as bad as he had been expecting. The food was great, as expected from a palace chef, and Jared had been great company, if a bit full-on.

The problem was The Murphy’s. The father, whose name Evan learned was Larry, kept bragging about his daughter, Zoe. He took every possible opportunity to mention her bands, and achievements, and awards. And Jared took all of those opportunities to make lewd innuendos about her relationship with Alana, which all went completely over her father’s head.

Evan had begun to resent Zoe. Instead of being embarrassed, or annoyed at Larry’s pestering, she took it in stride, in a _I get this all the time_ , sort of way. She nitpicked everything Connor did wrong, and when she couldn’t find anything, she brought up old stories.

“Connor, close your mouth, that’s disgusting.”

“Connor, cross your legs, this isn’t one of your druggie parties.”

“Connor, do you remember when you got so high that you jumped off of the roof into our pool and broke your leg? Ha ha, we wasted so much money on you.”

Larry had done nothing nothing to abolish her. He just sat there, occasionally shushing her, and staring trying to make conversation with Jared. Like they were on the same level, or something. Like Jared wasn’t ten times more intelligent than him, and was just some silly teenager.

“You know, _Zoe here_ came second in her school’s science fair.”

“That’s cool. I came first and got applications from different universities.”

“You know, _Zoe here_ did ninety hours of community service by choice.”

“Sweet. Evan and I founded the largest children’s charity in the country.”

“You know, _Zoe here_ got a guitar solo at her school’s band.”

“Neat-o. I play trumpet at the Royal Albert Hall annually.”

And Connor. _Connor_. Connor had sat there, and politely whispered to Evan throughout their entire meal. Their conversation was basically a continuation of the night in the maze.

Except neither one of them were drunk, so topics were awkward to come by, and they had to stop every few seconds to eat.

“So… y-you never di-id tell m-me what mu-usic you l-like.”

“Oh yeah. I guess I thought that it was weird to tell a drunk person, or whatever? Oh shi-sorry.”

“It’s o-okay. But yo-ou’re avoiding t-the ques-stion.”

“Right. Sorry. Um, I like… Hamilton? And The Beatles? And, err…”

“T-that's co-ool.”

“Thanks, just… promise you won’t laugh?”

“I s-swear.”

“Okay… Icelandic Pop group BABBA.”

“...”

“I said don’t laugh!”

“I’m n-not laug-ghing!”

“You’ve gone very red in the face.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“S-so… w-why?”

“My mum was really into BABBA. She used to listen to them all the time when my dad was at work, when I was little.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Evan sighed, and leant against the stair banister. The table was being cleared away, and he was waiting for a good chance to ask one of the servants where his mother was. He couldn’t ask now, obviously, or they’d get angry at him for interrupting them.

“Did you have fun?”

Evan jumped, and saw Jared standing just beside him. He wheezed slightly, and went red.

“Sorry. And y-yeah, I di-id.”

Jared nodded approvingly.

“It's okay. I’m glad you and Tall-Dark-and-Hands-On got some quality time together. But you owe me for covering for you.”

“Sorry, Jar,”

“You’d better be,” Jared warned, pushing his glasses further up his nose. “because if I hear one more word about Miss Pageant/ Actress/ Super-Star, I’m going to lose it.”

“Yeah, Z-Zoe w-was-”

“Evan!”

Evan glared at his friend good-naturedly, and laughed.

“I w-was going t-to say sh-he was a b-bit of a br-rat.”

Jared laughed with him.

“Yeah. She was.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was super tired when I wrote this but I needed to crank a chapter out. Sorry it was so short. And happy holidays guys!  
> Also, oh my satan, never right a character with a stutter, it will kill you.  
> I'm sorry for making The Murphy's such dicks, but I will try to redeem this in future chapters. I'm sorry!


	12. Getting back on track...

“Son.” Larry said sternly, almost glaring at Connor. Not actually glaring, not with so many people around.

“Yeah?” Connor asked, shoving his hands into his pockets. The table had been cleared away, and Evan and Jared were standing at the other end of the room, whispering to each other. Connor ignored the jealous sting in his stomach. 

“You need to stop showing us up in public,” Larry told him, crossing his arms. Connor took a step backwards.

“Showing you up?” he repeated, frowning at his family. Zoe scoffed and went back to playing on her phone.

“Yes, Connor. It was humiliating. You didn’t let either of us speak to the Prince!”

“Evan.”

“What?”

“His name is Evan.”

Zoe rolled her eyes without looking at him, too absorbed in the tinny beeping coming from her iphone.

“On first name bases now, are we?”

Connor scowled, and looked at the ground.

How dare they, he thought angrily to himself, they don’t know him they didn’t try to get to know him.

But you know him, his mind thought selfishly, you probably know him better than anyone ever, excluding his mother and Jared.

“Hey, Connor!”

Connor turned around to see Jared waving him over. He made his way over to them, ignoring his families protests, and leant against the banister with them. 

“Yes?”

Was that rude? It was probably rude. He couldn’t have said ‘yeah’ because it was too casual, but ‘yes’ was too harsh.

“Just to let you know, the roo you’ll be staying in is down the hall from mine, so don’t even think about getting up in the night to see Ev.”

And there was that jealous sting again. Only Connor could call Evan, ‘Ev’.

No, shut up Connor, he told himself, Jared is Evan’s friend, and you’ve only known him for a few days. Less so, actually.

It took him so long to tell himself off, Connor missed what Jared had said, until the other boy spoke up again.

“Wait, were you actually going to do that?” he asked, giving Connor a surprised-but-smug look. “Well by all means, don’t let me stop you!”

“What?” Connor asked, snapping back to reality. He racked his brains for whatever it was Jared had said, but couldn’t remember. He was too busy getting angry about the ‘Ev’ thing.

“S-shut up, Jared.” Evan scolded, turning red in the face. Connor felt something inside of him flutter, and stomped it down.

He was not five anymore. He was almost an adult, and he was not going to be undone by silly crushes.

“No seriously, what did he say?” Connor asked, quirking an eyebrow. Evan turned even redder.

“I just meant that if you and Ev wanted to ‘get to know each other’ in the middle of the night, I won’t stop you.” Jared told him, and Connor felt his face heat up.

“I-I wouldn’t, it’s not-” Connor tried to get out, but was too flustered to form a proper sentence. Jared laughed at him.

Images started to form in his mind, but Connor swept them away before he could probably see what they were. 

Stupid teenage brain.

“Anywho,” Jared sighed, “I’d best be off to bed. I’ll show you to your room, since I don’t trust the maids not to ambush you when you get there.”

“I’m gay.” Connor blurted out, and Jared paused.

You’ve really fucked it up now, haven’t you? A voice told him. You can’t just put that in the middle of a conversation, now you’ve scared him off.

“Cool. Me too.” Jared shrugged, and started up the stairs. Halfway he stopped and called down, “You coming?”

Connor placed his hand on the banister, ready to follow, but stopped when he saw Evan looking at him.

“G-goodn-ight Con-nor.” Evan stuttered staring at the ground. Conor watched him for a moment, the way his chocolate eyes traced the tiles in the floor, the splatter of freckles across his nose like abstract art, the way-

“Good night. Evan Hansen.” Connor bent down, and gently placed his lips against the corner of Evan’s mouth. He felt rather than heard the other gasp. Before Evan could say anything, Connor continued up the stairs, going slightly faster than normal. 

Jared was waiting for him at the top, and lead him through a large doorway into a brightly lit hall. As they continued to the bedrooms, Jared turned and gave Connor a smug grin.

Connor was too elated to be embarrassed, to pounding in his chest drowning out the screaming in his mind.

“You do realise that our rooms are just a few doors down from him, so we’ll have to talk to him later, right?”

“Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the useless fluff will distract from the fact that this hasn't had any actual plot in a few chapters. Please make recommendations, I can't do this alone.  
> And Happy Holidays, because i don't know what religion the person reading this is. I got The Hamilton and Legally Blonde soundtrack for Christmas, so yay!


	13. These are teenage boys, after all.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once again, my tumblr is jds-therapist. Sorry for not giving you the right one before <:)

“Honey? Honey, are you okay?” 

A soft voice called to Evan, a soft sheet of silk covering his anxiety like a blanket. Evan choked slightly, the warm bile in the back of his throat slithering further down until he was red-faced and coughing like a hospital patient.

“Evan, come on Ev, it’s okay sweetie.”

A hand rubbed his back soothingly, until all of the coughing had stopped and Evan was left panting. A long line of drool fell from his lips, and he clumsily wiped it away.

The backs of his eyes pricked and he felt his chest grow hot. He wasn’t going to cry-he wasn’t going to cry-he wasn’t going to

“Evan, look at me, look at me Evan.”

Evan looked up to see a a mane of honey-blonde hair falling on tired shoulders. A hand brushed some of the hair away to reveal a kind, familiar face. Evan breathed a sigh of relief.

“I’m-m s-sor-rry, mum.” He apologised.

“Evan, sweetie, there’s nothing to apologise for. You did amazing.” 

Evan didn’t believe her, but it was still nice to hear.

“T-thank you. I’m sorry y-you weren’t he-ere to meet th-hem.”

“‘Them’?” Heidi raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, err, Connor brought his father and sister.”  Heidi didn’t look any less sceptical, but she smiled anyway.

“That’s nice. Was Jared okay?”

Evan nodded vigorously. He didn’t want to get his one and only friend in trouble.

“Good. Are you okay, honey?”

Evan swallowed thickly, and watched as Heidi’s tired eyes glinted with worry.

“It’s just, I don’t want you to be afraid to tell me if you’re not. This boy, Connor, isn’t giving you panic attacks, is he?”

Evan opened his mouth to deny that, no of course not, why would she think that? When a memory of just five minutes ago slide back, and he went red again.

“I, erm, I-it’s just that I-”

“Evan.” Heidi placed a hand on his shoulder, and he slumped slightly. The blush didn’t fade, however.

“C-Connor, he, h-he…”

Heidi’s grip tightened, unintentionally, and Evan blurted out;

“He kissed me!”

His mother’s expression went from shocked, to confused, to slow realisation in under ten seconds. Evan’s gut twisted into a boy scout’s fantasy as he waited in trepidation.

“Honey…” she started, letting go of her son. “...that’s fantastic!”

Her eyes glistened with pride, and Evan felt his stomach drop. She would be so disappointed when this all went tits up. This was Evan after all…

As his mother went on and on about kissing, and dating, and marriage, Evan tuned her out, instead focusing on all the bad thoughts swirling in his mind. 


	14. We've had a neked Con, now for a neked Ev...

The next day started off miserably. Connor woke up after only an hour of sleep, having spent the night paranoid. Evan had obviously made a mistake, and would come storming in demanding that Connor left, and Connor would push him down on top of the bed, and press their bodies together-

Like he said, Connor had been… paranoid.

Opening his bedroom door, he quickly realised that he had no idea where in the castle he was. Vague memories of hallways and staircases filtered through his mind, but the journey from the dining hall to his bedroom was a mystery.

Connor briefly considered going to see Jared, until he saw the other boys bedroom door open and knew he was on own. 

He sighed in annoyance, and slowly building panic, and was close to swearing when he heard a voice.

“E-excuse me, sir? Is everything okay?” 

Connor looked over to see a young woman in a butler’s uniform bowing awkwardly by the door. 

“Err, yeah, how exactly do I… I mean, where am I supposed to go?”

Connor flushed in embarrassment. That sounded rude. Why couldn’t he just fucking  _ talk _ to people?

“Oh! The Prince hasn’t called for you yet, but I can take you to him, if you wish?” She told him, seeming pleased with herself. Connor tried not to frown at her, but it was too early in the morning for useless staff.

When did he start calling them ‘staff’?

“S-sure? Thanks.”

She lead him through a brightly lit corridor, seeming far too awake for Connor to deal with.

“Sir, have you gotten your daily agenda from the board today?” She asked, giving him a wide smile. He tried not to feel uncomfortable.

“No. I didn’t even know I had to have one.” He admitted. He couldn’t help but feel stupid walking beside her. Although, really, he always felt like that.

“Oh, that’s okay. I’m sure it’ll just be full of photoshoots and interviews, though.”

Connor’s blood ran cold.

“D-did you say… what did you mean?” He asked, trying to ignore the waver in his voice. She giggled girlishly, and he wanted to punch her.

“You’re the Prince’s fiancé. Once you’re married, and the Queen dies, you’ll be our new king. The media has been going crazy over it.” She said, almost skipping with excitement. Connor felt like lying on the floor and never getting up, he was so drained.

“I don’t think i’ll be able to-”

“Well, here we are!” she interrupted, and he felt his hand curl into a fist.

Count to ten.

One, two, three…

She finally stopped, and he almost bumped into her.

Four, five, six…

They were in front of a large door, with servants on either side.

Seven, eight, nine…

“We’re coming in your majesty!” She called, and twisted the handle open.

Connor completely forgot what number came next.

Evan was sitting up in his bed, tiredly rubbing his eyes. His blond hair was tousled and unkempt, but he looked well-rested.

And he didn’t have a shirt on.

His plump duvets and blankets pooled around his thighs as he sat up, giving Connor a nice view of his skin. 

Connor was suddenly highly aware of his too-wide pyjamas; baggy plaid bottoms that he had to hold at the waist and a pastel cotton jumper that kept falling over his shoulder. He distractingly pulled it back up again.

Someone placed a hand on the his back, and before he could protest was pushed forward.

“Don’t worry, the walls are soundproof!” A voice called out to them as Connor barely grabbed onto the bed post to stop himself from falling onto his face.

“I-Connor?” A weary voice asked, telling Connor that Evan hadn’t properly woken up yet.

“Yeah, Hansen?” He answered, pulling himself to his feet. He stood up and saw Evan sleepily pull his pillow closer to his chest.

“What are you doing in my room?” Evan asked, face half-smushed into his pillow. Connor ignored the tight feeling in his chest and took a few steps back.

“We need to get up. Apparently we’re going to have, like, photoshoots and interviews and shit.” 

“Fuck!”

That woke him up. Evan’s eyes snapped open from where they were threatening to close, and flung his pillow away. Scrambling for his duvets he accidently tripped, still sitting down, and fell out of bed. 

“Evan!” Connor yelped, and went to help him. The blond was lying upside down, his head on the floor, with his legs spread. The duvets was covering his chest and anything interesting, but still.

“Shit! Sorry.” Connor spun around, one hand covering his eyes. He felt ridiculous -Evan didn’t have anything Connor hadn’t seen before. Probably- but he felt the need to hide his own embarrassment. And the blood rushing to his crotch, but mainly his embarrassment. 

“I-I’m o-okay ju-ust… please g-get out.” Evan sounded like he was going to cry. Connor wanted to cry. Mumbling some sort of apology, he rushed from the room and found the same butler from before.

“Wow.” she looked at him surprised. “You were fast.”

Connor glared at her, hoping his bottoms were large enough to hide the growing bulge.

“Take me to the dining hall.” He demanded. She nodded, apparently unaware of her mistake, and lead him away.

Connor hoped Evan was okay.

 


	15. This isn't Sincerely Three, but Jared's still gay ;)

Evan was not okay. He had not woken up okay, and he doubted he would be for a very long time.

Connor had seen him naked. Connor had seen him sprawled across the floor with his legs spread, with no clothes on. 

Logically, Evan knew that his duvets and blankets protected him from Connor seeing anything… bad. But anxiety didn’t listen to logic, and Evan spent the whole day ducking and dodging through hallways and meetings to get away from the other boy. It was harder than he would have realised, as Connor decided to spend his day off getting used to the palace. Everywhere Evan went Connor was there, following him like a blind man follows his dog.

“Jared, I need to talk to you!” Evan disappeared into his friends room, not before stomping his feet as loud as he could outside before he came in. Past experience had taught both of them to warn the other before entering each others rooms. It was an experience they shared in shame and awkwardness. 

Anyway, Jared looked up from his laptop with a bemused expression, and shuffled further up his giant bed to make room for his friend. 

“What happened?” He asked, pushing his glasses further up his nose.

“I ne-eed you to help m-me hide from C-Connor.” Evan told him, feeling his face flush. Jared quirked an eyebrow in amusement at his friend.

“Why? Is Panic at the Everywhere giving you a hard time?” He asked, snorting at his own joke. Before Evan could answer something flickered behind Jared’s eyes, and his face fell.

“Is he? Giving you a hard time, I mean.” He said, giving Evan a concerned look. Evan shifted away from his friend, still not used to Jared’s ‘soft side’, and ducked his head.

“No. S-something embarrassing ha-appened and I don’t w-want to talk to hi-im about i-it.”

“Is it about the kiss?” Jared asked, looking uncharacteristically serious. Evan flushed harder.

“No. He-we-it wasn’t-”

“Ev, just, focus on me.”

Evan focused his attention on his friend, who was far too used to this than he’d like to admit. The thought just made him panic harder.

“We can leave, if you want?” Jared asked, and Evan shook his head. He liked Jared’s room, it was familiar.

“It’s okay, buddy, you’re going to be okay. There’s nothing to be afraid of. Breath, Evan, breath.”

Evan shut his eyes and focused on the feeling of his chest rising and falling. Slowly, it calmed down and he turned back to his friend. 

“Thanks Jared.”

Jared turned away, looking uncomfortable.

“Whatever. You don’t have to tell me.”

“No, n-no, I do!” Evan blurted. “Connor walked I-in on m-me, um…” 

Jared raised an eyebrow, clearly hiding a smirk.

“Was it like when I walked in on you?”

“No!” Evan paused. “But… I d-didn’t have ay, um… clothes.”

There was a pause. Then,

“S-shut up, Jared!”

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“I-I could h-hear you th-hinking!”

“Evan,calm down-”

Evan glared at him.

“-sorry. Poor choice of words. I mean, I haven’t said anything and you’re getting all worried. Here’s what we’re gonna do; I’m going to help you and Connor with your interview, you’re going to pose your asses off in that photoshoot, then we’re all going to go out to the cinema, ‘kay?”

“The c-cinema?”

“Shit, right. The private tv in your room, alright? Cool?”

“C-cool.”

“Good boy.”

“Jared.”

“Sorry, Ev.”


	16. Miss Outer, another side character...

A red-haired, dark skinned women came bustling towards Connor, her arms spread like he had come back from a war.

“You must be Connor Michael Murphy! It’s so nice to finally meet you!” she crowed, enveloping him in a hug. Connor’s eyes almost burst out of his skull as he was squeezed, the womens tight grip sending an unspoken warning; _don’t mess this up._

“Miss Outer, please could you let go of our model before he breaks something.” A voice Connor never thought he’d be glad to hear interrupting them. The woman, Miss Outer, sprang away from him immediately, and went to go fuss over Jared.

“And Mr Klienman, it’s so nice to see you again, did you get a haircut? Who designed your outfit? Is the Prince coming?”

Connor almost rolled his eyes at Miss Outer’s not-so-subtle questioning. Jared carefully prised her grabby fingers off of his shoulders and smiled at her from behind his glasses.

“Yes, Evan will be here in a moment, he’s just preparing himself, _you know_ too many people in one room makes him uncomfortable.”

Miss Outer looked back to where her ten makeup gurus were waiting, making it clear she either didn’t know that, or just didn’t care.

“Yes Mr Klienman.” She muttered, and scurried off, not before mumbling something angrily beneath her breath. Connor couldn’t hear what she said, but the way she was glaring at her co-workers made them scurry like mice.

“Cool,” Jared turned back to Connor, a hint of worry in his blue eyes. Connor was surprised to see a smidge of brown in the right one, like himself.

“You have heterochromia.” he blurted out. Jared barked in laughter, and looked back to where Miss Outer was whisper-screaming at a sound director.

“Yup, only thing hetero about me.” he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “The Harpy over there’s always begging to have some pictures, apparently it’ll make me look better, but I always manage to avoid her, somehow. But now you’re here, which makes my life easier.”

He clapped a hand on Connor’s shoulder, and wandered out the front door, leaving the brunet standing there feeling both confused, and a little bit afraid.

“Murphy!” Miss Outer screeched, furiously waving him over, and Connor scrambled over to her, awaiting instructions. Once he was standing where she wanted him to, she left him to talk to The Prince.

“It’s so nice to see you again, are you well?”

“W-well, I-I, umm-”

“Wonderful! Now then, about the shoot; we’ll start with some exotic backdrops, like France or Africa or something…”

“I d-don’t thi-ink that’s-”

“...then we’ll move onto the more ‘intimate’ poses, shall we?”

“W-what are y-you-”

“Brilliant! Let’s go!”

She shot off to the other side of the room, randomly fiddling with light bulbs and camera lenses, leaving Evan dumbstruck on his own. Jared had disappeared long ago.

Connor’s hands curled into fists before he realised, and he stormed towards the woman.

“Excuse me!” he yelled, and she jumped. Turning around, her face turned to thunder when she saw Connor.

“Oh. Can I help you Mr Murph-”

“Yes you can! What the hell do you mean ‘intimate’?” He demanded, crossing his arms across his chest. He suddenly realised his hands were shaking. Miss Outer rolled her eyes dramatically.

“Well, with The Prince-”

“Evan.”

“-whatever, being the most attractive person in the media to date, I thought it would be best to show him in a more romantic light.”

“Meaning…”

“Candles, roses, shirts off.”

Connor stepped back like he had been hit, and he hunched his shoulders.

“Absolutely not.”

“But-”

“I do not consent to this.”

Miss Outer sighed, like a childminder who had to take care of a three year old.

“Well it isn’t about you, is it Murphy? It’s about The Prince, and he hasn’t disagreed to any of this.” she peered round to smile falsely at Evan, who was still frozen on the spot. “Have you, your highness?”

Evan blinked in surprise, opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it and shook his head. Miss Outer nodded approvingly, and turned back to Connor with a condescending pat on the shoulder.

“Now then. I am in charge here, being the only person with any idea how to run these things, and-”

“I’m a photographer.” The words escaped Connor’s mouth before he could stop them. Miss Outer raised an overly-trimmed eyebrow at him with a laugh.

“Oh really? So you think you could run this shoot?” she asked, moving a hand to indicate the cameras around them. Everyone else had stopped to watch them, and Connor felt a lump form in his throat.

“Y-yes.” he said, sounding more confident than he felt. Miss Outer crossed her arms.

“This isn’t some college project-”

“I said yes!” Connor yelled, his voice echoing off of the high ceiling. Miss Outer took a step back in surprise, then scowled at him.

“Fine! I don’t know why I agreed to do this fucking photoshoot in the first place!” She grabbed a sparkly handbag off of the floor and stormed out of the room, yelling all the way.

“I am Charlotte Outer! I’m worth millions! I did not come here to be talked down to by fucking teenagers!”

The door slammed behind her, and Evan flinched. Connor felt the heat in his chest die down, replaced with the cold reality of what he had just done.

“Evan, I…” he trailed off, watching Evan shuffle closer to him. The blond smiled awkwardly.

“W-well, let’s do th-this phot-to sh-shoot then. S-shall we?” he asked, going red. Connor stared at him for a moment, then grinned.

* * *

“Are yo-ou rea-ally a ph-photographer?” Evan asked, watching Connor rush around the room. The blond had been told to sit on a chair in the middle of the backdrop, while Connor tried to work out how the cameras worked. It was no surprise that million pound cameras were a little different than the fifty pound ones Connor owned.

“Err, yeah.” Connor called back, from where he had shoved his entire head into a lighting lamp. “I’m trying to get some college applications. It, umm, you know.”

Evan clutched the underside of his seat, trying to dissipate some of the awkwardness.

Most of the staff had left shortly after Miss Outer, as they worked for her and couldn’t risk being fired. The remaining few were young adults who would do anything for the money. Plus, they had agreed with Connor.

“Could you, err, hand me that stick-thingy?” Connor grasped aimlessly in the air until one of the staff handed him a black staff resting against the wall.

“Thanks.” his voice was muffled by the lamp, and he kicked at the floor a few times before he could get it out again.

“Umm, sorry about that.” he apologised to Evan, who laughed at the others crazy hair from the lamp.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry for the short chapters, i have barely any time these days, please forgive me :( Please please leave comments! It really helps fix writers, not just me, with motivation. Even if you thought it sucked please tell me and I can fix it!!


	17. Dear More Heathers, everybody!

“So, um, what do we do now?” Evan asked, looking around. The remaining five staff workers were hovering by the door, awkwardly looking between the two teenagers, and the outside. Evan couldn’t blame them, he didn’t want to be here either.

“We, er, we could… we c-could stand-you stand over there.” Connor pointed to the backdrop, and Evan obediently obliged.

“N-no, just try and, er…” Connor followed him, and held Evans shoulders. “Sorry about this, um…”

He moved Evan around a few times, until he finally seemed satisfied. It didn’t seem any different to Evan, but he didn’t say anything.

“This is… this is good. But you just-actually I… hang on-”

“Connor.” Evan said sternly, surprising even himself. Connor’s already flushed face went a shade darker, and he quickly looked to the ground. Evan sighed-but not too loudly or it would be too rude and he probably didn’t brush his teeth enough-and held Connor’s arms, which were still holding onto him. He felt Connor’s grip stiffen, and gently rubbed his hands up and down. The fabric of Connor’s sleeves wrinkled, but neither of them paid it any mind.

Connor inhaled slowly, and dropped his hold on Evan, who didn’t let go of the others arms. The brunette looked up, and caught Evan’s eye. The side of his mouth quirked upwards, sheepishly.

“Sorry.” he muttered, his voice just a breath of sincerity. Evan ‘hmmed’ quietly, attempting to sound playful, took another deep breath.

“Maybe, we s-should just try and take a pic-cture together. No flashy lig-ghts, or big backdrops. Just us. T-together.” he offered, twisting his hands together. Connor nodded, swallowing thickly.

“R-right.” the brunette spun on his heel, and turned to face the five workers, who had disappeared into a corner, heads bent over their phones.

“Sorry for the little delay,” Connor called over to them, voice cracking slightly. They all looked up, and casually slipped their phones into their pockets, and made their way over. “so we’re all ready now. I think we should just brainstorm for a bit, before we do anything drastic. But, um, we don’t want anything too flashy, okay?”

The five of them nodded, looking slightly perkier than when Miss Outer had flounced out the door.

They all went and sat at a table behind the cameras, chattering excitedly, and Connor turned back to the blond.

“Thanks. Evan.” he whispered, and Evan felt a warm glow crawl across his face, and his mouth tug up into a smile without warning.

“N-no prob, Bob.” he whispered back, and Connor winked before leaving to join the others at the table.

 

“We need to try and keep it modern, something that’ll appeal to out target demographic.” One cameraman, Michael, offered, pushing his dark glasses further up his nose. Connor definitely recognised his from somewhere, but couldn’t place him. School, maybe? There were only, like, two diverse students that Connor could recognise. Alana Beck, and some filipino freshman. And Connor didn’t want to assume, but Michael definitely looked Filipino.

“What, like, fidget spinners, and bottle flips?” A sound designer tried. She was a lot older than the others, as Evan somehow managed to wriggle out of her.

“I went to Westerburg University of Media Studies.” she had told him earlier, tugging at her blonde hair. He just nodded, staring intently at the table, hoping someone else would jump into the conversation. It wasn’t he didn’t like Mrs Macanara, she was actually one of the only people there who understood hi anxiety as far as he knew, he was just uncomfortable with conversations. But still, he had to try.

“W-wasn’t that pl-lace shut d-down?” he asked, tugging at his sleeve. She pulled on a strand of hair a little tighter.

“Yeah, in the early nineties. But I went there at about, let’s see, 1991, so I just made it.”

“Wasn’t there a bomb attack, or something? My mum was stuck on one of the trains that were stopped for an hour.” Evan told her, attempting a smile. He’d been left behind at nursery most of the afternoon until she’d arrived, both of them crying hysterically.

Something resembling fear flashed through Heather’s eyes, and she jolted back in her seat.

“I’m so sorry.” Evan immediately apologized, twisting his hands together. Idiot, idiot. He had triggered her, moron, and now she was going to leave them and the photoshoot was going to be a disaster.

“Hey,” a voice said, and Evan looked up to see a tall ginger looking over them with a concerned expression. “Are you okay?”

Heather nodded, tugging on the strand twirled around her hand, and swallowing thickly.

“Yeah, sorry about that. My wife just had a… bad experience with a bomber when she was younger.”

The ginger bowed his head respectfully, and pulled out a chair to sit down with them.

“I’m very sorry. What’s your wife’s name?” he asked, leaning his head on his hand.

“Veronica, and Martha.” Heather told him, showing him the collosal rock on her finger. The ginger made a cooing noise, holding her hand closer to his face, and they gushed over it together.

Evan glanced between them, feeling a bit awkward. While he was glad to not be the center of attention for once, he couldn’t help but feel a bit like a burden.

Back to the present, the seven of them were all throwing ideas to each other.

“A floral background?”

“It’s spring. Every magazine will be doing that.”

“Doing something domestic, like walking a dog?”

“I’m allergic. Anyway, that’s too boring.”

“Rainbow?”

“Between two men? Original.”

“Evan’s sitting on a throne, decked out in robes and jewellery, with Connor kneeling at his feet like a lapdog.”

Everyone turned to stare at the ginger with bewildered expressions.

“The fuck, dude?” Michael muttered. The ginger ducked his head, scratching the back of his head.

“Sorry. It’s, um, i’m kind of new to relationships and sex, and stuff. I don’t really know what’s…”

“Acceptable to bring up in a workplace environment?” Heather finished, looking just the tiniest bit amused. The ginger cleared his throat into his fist.

“Er, yeah. Sorry.”

“What’s your name?” Connor asked.

The ginger flushed, and Evan noticed just how tan he was. He resembled a gingerbread man.

“Connor, actually.” he laughed. Evan blinked in surprise.

“Connor Mckinley. When the news said the Prince, sorry, you had chosen ‘Connor. M’, my fiance went nuts.”

“Fiance?”

“Kevin Price. Soon to be Kevin McKinley.”

The conversation immediately shifted to The Other Connor, leaving Evan alone with his thoughts. Everyone he had talked to at this table was either in a relationship, or getting married. They had probably spent years together, talked together, even kissed. And Evan had only known His Connor for a few days. Hours, really, that he could remember.

And when did he start thinking of Connor as ‘his’.

‘To differentiate betwenn Murphy and McKinley.’ He told himself.

“How about a mix of all of them?” Michael’s voice brought them back to the present.

“What?” he asked. Then, “Sorry, pardon?”

“What if,” Michael suggested. “we have a selfie between Connor and Evan. Evan has a crown, a fake one obviously, and Connor has spring flowers in his hair. And they both have gay and bi flags painted on them.”

No one disagreed.

“Okay, then it’s all set.” Connor nodded, and then began to list off different camera angles and sound systems.

So it came to be, Connor staring down the lens of a camera, face heavy with makeup, and weighed down by the flowers braided into his hair. He could see himself in the reflection, but that wasn’t what he was focusing on.

Evan. Fucking Evan. Whose blond hair was slicked back into a style from the forties. Whose brown eyes sparkled under the single blue spotlight, almost rivalling the (fake) golden crown rested atop his head. Whose makeup highlighted the softness of his face, and the freckles swept under his eyes like butterfly kisses. Connor’s breath hitched as Evan shifted closer beside him, close enough that both their faces were visible in the camera.

“No, Evan, please don’t bite your lip, you’ll wipe off all the glass.” Mckinley called from beside Heather, who was busy adjusting the camera. She gave a thumbs up to Michael, and a second pink spotlight appeared out of nowhere, and hovered over Connor. There was a three second countdown, and then a quiet click as the photo was taken.

Heather fiddled with the camera for a moment, frowned, and fiddled a bit more. After a moment's pause, she sighed, and turned back to Connor.

“I don’t think this is going to work,” he said solemnly, and a groan of frustration swept through the room. Connor sighed, and bowed his head. If this picture went wrong, it might send the wrong impression about him and Evan. Once news got out about them, there’d be paparazzi hounding his steps, pointing out his every flaw; from his sweat patches, to his poor grades.

“Can you just…” Mckinley made a random gesture with his hands, and Connor blinked owlishly.

“I’m not entirely sure that helps.” Michael called from above. Mckinley’s face twisted into frustration, and he ran a hand through his hair.

“Hasa diga ebowi.” he muttered, taking slow breaths. Evan quirked an eyebrow, something Connor immediately decided was an amazing look on him.

“What, what was that?” he asked. Mckinley shook his head, and turned back to the camera. 

“Nothing. Just… something I learned on my gap year.” 

“Oh? What does it mean?” 

“Um, thank you God.”

Something about his tone told Connor he was lying, but he didn’t press on it. 

“What do we do about the photo?” he asked. 

“Just, um,” Mckinley took a cautious step forward, making the face of one deep in thought. He made his way over, and and tried fixing Connor’s hair, who shooed him away. Connor tugged on a loose strand of hair which, was he dreaming or was it longer? It was definitely past his ears. In his daze, he didn’t he didn’t notice Mckinley moving Evan next to him, until he felt something bump against his shoulder. 

Looking down, Connor felt his heart jump into his throat as Evan shuffled closer. He almost missed Mckinley talking, too distracted by the heat radiating off of the smaller off of the smaller body pressed against his. 

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do; Evan and Connor will hold the camera at the side, faces smushed together-”

“‘Smushed’?” Heather repeated. Mckinley distractedly waved her off. 

“-that way it’ll look like they’re taking a selfie. Meanwhile, i’ll take the photo, and edit it later.” he finished without skipping a beat. Heather looked at him skeptically, before turning to the two ‘models’.

“Do you know what to do?” she asked kindly. Connor looked down; she reminded him of Cynthia.

“What, um, what do we do with-with the camera?” Evan piped up. 

“Just do what you do normally in a selfie.” Heather replied. Both boys looked away; too embarrassed to admit they’d ever taken a selfie.

Connor thought back to Zoe, when she took selfies she tilted her head, kind eyes, wide smile. Not that he watched her, he just worried about her a lot.

Evan thought back to Jared. Squinty eyes, cocked eyebrow, duck lips. He’d said it was ‘ironic’, Evan would have said it was ugly, but Jared’s instagram followers disagreed.

“Yeah-yeah I think I can do that.” Evan mumbled, face red. Jared would never let him live this down…

Connor nodded dumbly, obsessively biting his lip. Zoe would hate him for this…

“Okay, cool.” the camera was awkwardly jostled off of its stand and passed between the four of them. Connor and Evan pretended to hold the sides, like it was an iphone, while Heather and Mckinley struggled to keep it up.

“Is, er, is this okay?” Connor asked, moving the lens a small bit.

“Y-yeah. Just take the freaking picture!” Heather gasped, legs buckling underneath the weight.

Connor took a deep breath, and twisted the edges of his mouth into a smile. He felt his eyes soften, and for once all the stress in his face melted away. He had met nice people, was in fancy clothes, and was living in a fancy house. His smile actually felt genuine.

There was a click, and the picture was taken. Heather and Mckinley both sighed as the camera was placed back on the stand, and weakly shook their arms.

 


	18. Real Talk....

Hi! So, I'm ConnorProject2K17, but you can call me Connor.

So when I started this, it was honestly supposed to be a Cinderella fanfic. But I got a bit off the rails, and began making it up as I went. Which sounded great at first, but seventeen chapters in, I was making seven pages out of one interaction because I had zero ideas what I was doing. So, this is me, putting this fanfic on the shelf. It's been fun, but it wasn't going to last, and it's time to give it up. Thank you to everyone who's Kudos, and left a message, or even just read it, because it's been lovely to see my views go up everyday. But it's over. It's not you, it's me. You deserve better, and I couldn't give that to you. I'm going to focus on shorter fanfics from now on, with simpler plots, and a more focused structure, thank you, again.

**Author's Note:**

> I never actually meant for the --- thing to be a secret, I wanted it to look like Connor was blocking the thought from his mind. But i guess i hadn't made that clear, sorry. Also i keep getting mixed up between writing this as olden times or modern, and now its a weird nix of the two.  
> btw the story isn't finished i just don't know how to make it 1/? If that makes sense  
> it cynthi whose dead by the way. I just wanted yo make that clear.  
> alana will show up layer, please leave suggests down below and comment your thoughts  
> I'm sorry for th wait but i'm having trouble continuing this! If you have any ideas, please send them to me, I need your help!!  
> (My tumblr is jds-therapist, in case you were wondering)


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